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