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