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