if you really must know By keith pearson

without asking i know

it is the solitude

i remember most.

after a good meal.

after a storm has passed.

after our argument

about the poetry of

wallace stevens.

after sex.

and how the solitude

born in the intensity

of the moment

ran down like some

antique clock wound tight

and put aside to slowly

tick the quiet time down.

to when words once again

became necessary whether

we wanted to speak them

or not or even needed to.

but they were just words

and meant nothing.

why else are they the thing

i do not remember.

keith pearson was born and raised in new hampshire and works at a local high school in the math department.