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