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