the last ride

at the carnival,
decades ago,
my son and I were in the spider
like contraption,
that spun us
around
rapidly, up and down, the long
tendrils of
the clanging machine
vibrating
like wings.
there was music playing.
REO speedwagon, or journey,
some such thing.
then it stopped.
some people screamed with no
way down.
finally a man
in a greasy white t shirt
approached
with a wrench and asked
if we had seen any
parts fly off.
no one said a word, they wondered
how it came about that
their life would
end like this.
at a parking lot carnival,
at the mercy
of the man with the wrench.
everyone will
get refunds and more tickets
to ride the spider
again, he said,
crossing his heart
with the wrench, just as soon
as I get it fixed.