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