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