Contributor: Samuel Moulton

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I was once in an affair
With a despondent physicist
Who specialized in motion study
So she told me calm and coldly

You should lose yourself much less here
Take your next orgasm as
A cliff, rather than horizon—
To be measured, not predicted

And so I climb with fingertips
Crystalized in rotten hazel
Turpentine on my eyelashes
Pine tar smeared across my chest

Bits of sour bark and algae
Dripping from my bloated tongue
I advanced where darkness broods
To stand nude on a precipice

And shout down for affirmation
Behold the sky has fallen twice


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Samuel Moulton is a current resident of New Orleans, Philosophy-student-by-day, poet-by-night and non-believer in the Oxford comma. Backed by Peter Cooley in the power struggle, he was recently appointed head poetry editor of the Tulane Review.