Usually I prefer the image to go off the edges of the panel,
for it to be larger than the space I can capture it in. - Gary Hume
The brain is a
soaked cabbage, its
iters ancient
mazes beneath
new gloss of orbits
gentle in dark
magenta space.
Why are this world’s
edges so close?
Below, nothing
else interrupts;
we nearly fall
off the old thought
into color,
a race of slaw
slowly watching
its own wrinkles
age, age into
forever’s frame.
About Brian Cronwall
Brian Cronwall is a retired English faculty member from Kaua’i Community College in Hawai’i. His poems have been published in numerous journals and anthologies in Hawai’i, Guam, the continental United States, Australia, Japan, France, and the United Kingdom, including recent publications in Bamboo Ridge, Chiron Review, Hawai’i Pacific Review, Ekphrasis, Pinyon, Colere, The Santa Fe Literary Review, Grasslimb, The Carolina Quarterly, The Briar Cliff Review, and others.
