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