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