Original Poem：
The oldest sister, her two hands on the table,
about to push herself up, stares with grim
determination at the affronting dishes,
waiting, it seems, until the middle sister
finishes her story, so she can clear them away.
Her gaze so tense with purpose she can almost
see germs spawning in the mess of white fish
flaking from the spines, the smear of egg yolk
and the torn rolls disfiguring the china;
as if the meal, the moment it is over,
the meal she made a point of telling them
she shopped for, got up early to prepare,
were now inedible, because uneaten.
It’s no great comfort either that her brother
sitting opposite holds up a flared match
over the pipe from which smoke rolls away
across the table like a phantom mold
in and around the open tub of butter,
the gouged block of cream cheese and the coffee cups;
so in a moment when she finally does stand
she’ll say again, as always, For love or money
in my mouth I’d never put such filth,
and he’ll say, winking at the middle sister,
That’s what she said on her honeymoon.
The youngest sister is sitting on the couch
behind the table; her face—sheer disengagement,
toneless and still—appears to hang suspended
beyond the oldest sister’s shoulder, far
enough away for no one yet to notice
as her legs cross that the ashtray in her lap
spills ash over the sunflowers of her housedress.
Or that the cigarette between her fingers
sags loosely and is dangling while the hand
lifts like a puppet’s on a string of smoke.
Her death is just three months away.
Even though it’s summer (otherwise
the brother and middle sister would be home,
in Florida), summer and late morning—
with sunlight only just now catching on
a corner of the window shut behind them,
shut against the smog, the steady traffic
and the panicked blare and drawn-out whining fade
of sirens—the apartment is still quiet,
still cool enough, right now, to keep the body
in the wavering frail zone of what it needs
to be forgotten, so they can sit like this
together, with the oldest sister’s sharp eye
on the wrecked meal, the brother and sister talking:
Listen, she would be saying, listen, Charlie,
her elbows on the table, both hands open,
the body fashioned to the voice’s weary
What can you do? What are ya gonna do?
in answer to some story of a cousin’s
sudden illness (And he was my age, just
like that one day he’s shaving with the toothpaste),
or a friend’s death (That one, she didn’t care
how sick she got, she always had her hair done),
his back pain, her arthritis, or the daughter
who won’t diet (And she’d be such a beauty!);
after his joke about the nurse, and hers
about the bedpan, Listen, they each say,
Listen, what are ya gonna do?
“The Schmo,
he never should’ve married her, for Christ sake,
until he told her that he had a problem,
that was his first mistake, then he goes
throwing away his pills, because he’s happy
he doesn’t need them anymore, the schmo,
so of course what happens is she wakes up
and finds him weeping at the kitchen table,
just weeping, he doesn’t know why, he won’t eat,
won’t get dressed, says he’s quittin’ his job,
you know, nuts, nuts, so naturally she leaves him,
the poor schmo, and he’s such a good boy . . . ”
All of the harm that’s imperceptibly
but surely coming for them (the way the sun
burns brick by brick all morning toward the window
like a slow fuse)—all of the bad news now
is in the body only enough to hold
the middle sister’s two hands open, shrug
her shoulders in a way they recognize
as hers, the way their mother did; as if
all trouble were, for now, no heavier
than the familiar voice repeating, Listen,
Listen it could be worse; So who’s to say?;
What was, was; When your number’s up—like old charms
woven around each story till they’ve made
what happens what was only meant to happen,
coherent with fate, fated as family.
After the funeral three months from now,
they’ll have to listen to the oldest sister
tell them they had no business moving away
to Florida, and Irene sick as she was.
And selfish. She was selfish, that one. After
all those years of living with that bum,
her husband, may his cheap soul rest in peace,
didn’t
she
deserve a little pleasure?
And anyway, what could be done for her?
Didn’t the stroke just make it easier
for her to sit all day, and smoke, and not care
ashes were falling on the couch, the carpet;
her bathrobe filthy, filthy? Oh it was terrible—
and now they will hear the old unfairnesses,
old feuds and resentments come to her voice
like consolation, like a mother helping
her recite the story of that last bad day—
all that smoke, and running in with nothing
but the dishtowel to beat down the flames,
and Irene, just Irene, just sitting there,
the queen of Sheba—What difference did it make
since
she
was there,
she
was always there,
her big sister, to clean up the mess?
Only three months, and yet it could be years,
or decades, for the sun has only just now
caught in the window, and its bright plaque warms
the air so gradually that none of them
can know it’s warming, or that soon someone,
distracted by a faint sheen prickling the skin,
will break the story, look up toward the window
and, startled by the full glare, check the time.
Right now, though, the future is a luxury
of instances in which the cigarette,
raised halfway to the lips, will go on rising.
Nothing bad, right now, can happen here
except as news, bad news the brother and sister
mull and rehearse, puzzle and fret until
it seems the very telling of it is
what keeps them safe. And safe, too, the oldest sister,
dreaming of all the perishables sealed,
wrapped up and hurried back into the fridge’s
uncontaminated airlessness,
dreaming of how the soapsuds curdle and slide
over the dishes in a soothing fury,
not minding that it scalds her hands to hold
each plate and cup and bowl under the hot,
hard jet of water, if it gets them clean.
Analysis and Interpretation of the Poem
This poem presents a vivid and intimate portrait of a family gathering, focusing on the complex dynamics between three sisters and their brother. The oldest sister is portrayed as meticulous and determined, fixated on the remnants of a meal she carefully prepared, symbolizing her need for order and control amid the chaos of life. Her stern gaze at the uneaten food suggests a deeper anxiety about care, responsibility, and perhaps unspoken tensions within the family.
The brother, with his casual gesture of lighting a pipe, introduces a moment of levity and irony, reflecting the informal and sometimes sardonic interactions among siblings. The middle sister acts as a storyteller, sharing news and worries about relatives and friends, her open hands and shrugged shoulders embodying resignation and acceptance of life's hardships. The youngest sister, detached and disengaged, foreshadows impending loss, her passive smoking and distant demeanor hinting at her fragile health and approaching death.
The poem’s setting—a quiet summer morning in an apartment shielded from the outside world's noise and pollution—creates a poignant backdrop for this snapshot of family life. The interplay of light and shadow, the slow warming of the room by the sun, and the detailed descriptions of everyday objects like butter tubs and coffee cups ground the scene in reality while evoking a sense of time passing and inevitable change.
Themes of mortality, family duty, resignation, and the persistence of memory run throughout the poem. The repeated phrase "Listen, what are ya gonna do?" captures a weary acceptance of life's unpredictability and suffering. The poem also explores the tension between caring and frustration, love and resentment, highlighting how family relationships are often complicated and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Background and Author Introduction
This poem likely comes from a contemporary poet known for exploring family relationships and the passage of time with keen observation and emotional depth. The author’s style combines detailed imagery with conversational dialogue, creating a narrative that feels both personal and universal. The focus on ordinary moments and the subtle interplay of characters' emotions suggests a deep understanding of human nature and the complexities of familial bonds.
The poem’s creation may have been inspired by personal experiences or observations of family life, illness, and caregiving. It reflects themes common in modern poetry that deal with aging, loss, and the bittersweet nature of memory and connection.
Reflections and Personal Response
Reading this poem evokes a strong sense of empathy and contemplation. The vivid portrayal of the sisters and brother, each coping in their own way with pain and uncertainty, invites readers to reflect on their own family dynamics and the delicate balance between love and frustration. The youngest sister’s impending death adds a layer of poignancy, reminding us of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing moments together.
The poem’s detailed descriptions and emotional honesty make it a powerful meditation on care, loss, and the small rituals that sustain us. It encourages readers to appreciate the complexity of relationships and the quiet strength found in everyday acts of love and endurance.
Educational Value and Learning Points
From this poem, students and children can learn several important lessons:
- Family Dynamics: Understanding how family members relate to each other, including the mix of care, conflict, and humor that often characterizes sibling relationships.
- Emotional Expression: Recognizing the subtle ways people express feelings like frustration, love, resignation, and grief.
- Imagery and Symbolism: Identifying how everyday objects and actions (like the meal, cigarette smoke, or sunlight) can symbolize larger themes such as life, death, and memory.
- Theme of Mortality: Gently introducing the concept of death and how families cope with illness and loss.
- Narrative Voice: Appreciating how dialogue and internal thoughts reveal character and mood.
In practical life and learning contexts, the poem can be used to:
- Foster discussions about family roles and responsibilities.
- Encourage empathy by exploring different perspectives within a family.
- Develop skills in literary analysis, focusing on imagery, tone, and theme.
- Support emotional literacy by discussing how people handle difficult situations.
Comprehension Questions and Answers
-
Who are the main characters in the poem?
Answer: The oldest sister, the middle sister, the youngest sister, and their brother. -
What is the oldest sister’s attitude toward the meal?
Answer: She is determined and tense, upset that the meal she prepared is uneaten and possibly spoiled. -
How does the brother contribute to the atmosphere at the table?
Answer: He adds a casual, somewhat humorous tone by lighting his pipe and making jokes. -
What does the youngest sister’s behavior suggest about her condition?
Answer: Her disengagement and the cigarette suggest she is unwell and close to death. -
What recurring phrase do the siblings use, and what does it signify?
Answer: "Listen, what are ya gonna do?" signifies resignation and acceptance of life’s difficulties. -
How does the poem use imagery to convey the passage of time?
Answer: The slow warming of the room by the sun and the description of light on the window symbolize time moving forward. -
What themes are explored in this poem?
Answer: Family relationships, mortality, acceptance, care, frustration, and memory. -
What might the poem suggest about the role of the oldest sister after the funeral?
Answer: She will likely express criticism and unresolved feelings about family decisions and the past.
This poem offers rich material for discussion, reflection, and learning, making it an excellent resource for students exploring poetry, family themes, and emotional expression.
