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