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