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