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