Caps People should be open on top like a cup. A piece of bread should be able to sop some of us up. We should be milk-like or like wine. We should not have to be trying to get our caps off all the time. The storybook boy attempts the simple gesture of baring his head for his emperor, but another hat has appeared. This happens over and over. Who does not share his despair of simplicity, of acting clearly and with dignity? And what pleasure can we find in the caps, brightly feathered and infinitely various, that pile up so high they bury us? -- Kay Ryan