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