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