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