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