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 
            i think to myself:            
        "new york fat cap" is weird