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