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