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