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