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