spinners

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By Mike O’Connell
a violet planet
filled my vision
turning interrupting
leaves
bright white
subterranean crinkling
crackled towards
the surface bound by
webs and creating bulges
in the cul de sac
little pot holes revealing
the homes of gnomes
and shrews
where i had
thrown ghost peppers
humane organic grenades
vaporous gas shells only
exploding in my imagination
nonlethal attacks on
the unseen vermin from
the depths brought to life
by panic and confusion
double check from either eye
spinning free refractive
tumbling onto sponge mats
on the softened road
waiting
waiting
for the nausea to pass
into places only sleep can go
leaping lost from the high
cliffs helped up by
familiar friends flying
beside prying the wind
from a fear of falling
as creaky bridges
lead me to serenity
and memories of home

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