301 Moved Permanently

301 Moved Permanently



They met at a phone-book-ripping contest,

while outside the auditorium, spring was a promise,

the day was breaking.


He carried a Ouija board for whenever

he wanted to say something controversial,

drove in a way she could only describe as theatrical.


She was investigating the game Battleship

as the perfect metaphor for love,

said a number of self-publishing companies

were currently uninterested.


Then, at his house, naked as a candle flame,

she spoke as though she were in a phone booth,

both feet up against the door.


And later, at her enormously small apartment,

she said, “Beer is technically a bread-flavoured soda,”

and he laughed until it tore out his nose.

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