
I love reciting this poem. For me, there’s a glimmer of sadness embedded in the sardonic wit, and there’s also a small epiphany within it for me, in the line “thewoman wasnot/quite Fourteen till she smiled/then/Centuries.” There’s an acknowledgment of feminine wisdom and knowledge that’s generally lacking in masculine poetry, and there’s something in her value being double that of the room. I, of course, know she’s worth much more than that. There’s also something else in that six for me outside of dollars, an echo of Persephone’s pomegranate seeds perhaps, or maybe some other allusion I can’t articulate, but this poem does what poetry should do—it makes me look at things differently
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston



Comments (1)
love reciting this poem. For me, there’s a glimmer of sadness beneath its sardonic wit, and a quiet epiphany hidden in the line, “the woman was not / quite Fourteen till she smiled / then / Centuries.” There’s an acknowledgment of feminine wisdom and timeless knowing that’s so often absent in masculine poetry and something deeply resonant in her value being “double that of the room.” Of course, I know she’s worth far more than that.