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