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