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