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