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