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