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