FAT CAP                 
                                          
                  
                                          
 IN  GARDENS AMONG STONES ALONG THE RIVER 
 GROWS  THE  MUSHROOM.  BETWEEN FERNS AND 
 HORSEMINT GROWS THE MUSHROOM. ALONG  THE 
 CREEK,  WITH  A  REDDISH CAP  AND  WHITE 
 STEM  AND QUIRKY GLEAM IN ITS EYES GROWS 
              THE MUSHROOM.               
                                          
                                     
                                          
 I AM DREAMING.  A  PACKAGE HAS  ARRIVED. 
                                          
 THROUGH  THE  PARK I  GO  TO PICK IT  UP 
 FROM A  BITTER LADY. A SLOT IN  A  WALL, 
 LADY  INSIDE, ME OUTSIDE  WITH THE  REST 
              OF THE WORLD.               
                                          
                                     
                                          
 DELIVERED IS  A NY FAT CAP, A NOZZLE (OR 
       "CAP") FOR SPRAY PAINT CANS.       
                                          
 THROUGH YOUNG  FOREST, THIN  AND RUBBERY 
 WHIPS SHOOT UP FROM THE EARTH.  KIRSKALE 
    AROUND MY FEET. CONCRETE TRENCHES,    
 ABANDONED GRAY  WALLS. I  SHALL TRY  THE 
             NEW NOZZLE HERE.             
                                          
 THE  PAINT INSIDE  COMES OUT,  IT  COMES 
 LIKE A MASSAGE SHOWER, IT COMES  LIKE  A 
 THICK AND SLOW  BEAM. RICH  WITH RED AND 
               GOOEY PAINT.               
                                          
 DOESN'T  HIT ANYTHING.  IT  KEEPS  GOING 
 AND  NEVER   REACHES  THE  WALLS.   IT'S 
 FOREVER  FALLING,  BUT  NOTHING  WILL BE 
                 STAINED.                 
                                          
                  
                                          
            I THINK TO MYSELF:            
       "NEW YORK FAT CAP" IS WEIRD