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