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