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