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