The Sand Hill Review               http://www.sandhillreview.org 2009

The Time Has Come

"The time has come, I must be gone."

—John Berryman

I don't speak to Arthur and he doesn't speak to me:

He is interested in my friend

Who's just delivered.

He shows up, surprising us both.

He should not ignore me, considering we're related

By marriage.

In my mind he speaks to me, says:

"The time has come, I must be gone."

Damn it, I sleep with his sister's husband—

Though I haven't given birth to his child, he still could speak.

He is tall, dark and handsome—if overweight,

If unable to smile as if he meant it,

If more interested in my friend.

She will be with me in a jiffy, after she

Swaddles her newborn (whom she didn't want) in the cheap, flowery

Feminine receiving blanket.

She isn't tired after the birth. Good

Because she can only afford standing room.

He should offer her dress circle seats

For the opening opera but he's a cheapskate.

The doctor is eating or catching some shuteye

When I summon him.

Sure she can leave, sure she can go to the opera

Though he'd prefer she didn't stand.

What will she do with the baby.

Don't count on me, I'm also going to the first opera of the season.

On the way home we eat outdoors in the drafty courtyard.

I get egg rolls and pseudo chow mein—

Arthur, prepared turkey and avocado, probably mayonnaised

To death; my postpartum

Friend, tomato soup and a milkshake:

She's nursing.

Is Arthur good in bed—she'll tell me

Later on my answering machine, one of her long, hogging messages.

Phyllis Koestenbaum