Money is for Men

Between 1979 and 1981
And then again in 1999
I was put on a coin
That nobody ever uses

The Susan B. Anthony dollar

Some would consider this an honor
I considered it a blemish
On my reputation

Perhaps I would have felt prouder
About having my face
Poorly rendered
On some piece of cheap tin
Had it happened while I was ALIVE

But when you've been dead for seventy-three years
You get a better perspective on things

And my perspective
As it stands
Is that money
Is for men

I have zero interest
In being attached to monetary value

A posthumous Nobel prize I wouldn't mind
But an eleven-sided token
With Apollo 11 on the back of it
Is not something I enjoy being attached to

By the way--

Some of you may be able
To find this out

What on Earth does the Apollo 11 mission
Have to do with me?

Is there a reason we're forever linked
Through currency?

I suppose I should be grateful
They didn't just use the back of my neck

I was never known
For having a particularly
Lovely neck

But that's neither here nor there

Part of me can't help but think
That putting me on a coin
Was purely symbolic

After all, don't men still make more than women?
Isn't chauvinism still running rampant?
Don't women still have to wear corsets
And those ridiculous bonnets?

. . . . .

Oh?

Well, that's something then

So, yes, I'm insulted
But I'm also apathetic

There are so many other things
To worry about
Even while deceased

But I have to say
As long as I'm on a coin
At least it's the one
With the highest value