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