she swallows diamonds hills move
glow in daylight until
hills move clouds catch fire
she asks birds until
furniture moves inside coffee
flows upwards
you sit near a red, white, and black umbrella
you are wearing white, red, and black
you sponsor a candle’s persistence
in the sun, every day listens
the bra tells me
Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke has recently launched The South Townsville micro poetry journal. It seeks poetry of all kinds that is twenty-five lines or fewer. When he’s not burning the midnight candle responding to submissions, Michael’s often running up his phone bill.
