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