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