Helen of Troy goes Missing in Wyoming & Eight Belles
by Anna Scott
Johns Hopkins University
Anna Scott is a Junior at Johns Hopkins University majoring in Political Science and Writing Seminars. She is from Ann Arbor, Michigan. She has previously published a short story and poems in October Hill Literary Magazine.
Helen of Troy goes Missing in Wyoming
It works, it says. Call 1-800-THE-LOST.
The Missing and Exploited Children board
hangs at a crooked angle
beside the Walmart Vision Center.
A woman, reflected in the glass, stoops
to tie her son’s shoe. Behind me, a man crumples
his receipt in a coat pocket. I turn away,
my boots squeaking on the linoleum,
like seconds slipping through dry air,
like mattering, not-mattering, reliant on the day
and skin tone to attract interest.
In the parking lot, Helen illuminates a newspaper stand
with a white-toothed grin. Today, she’s a van-lifer
with a face to launch a thousand clips,
but we’ve seen her before:
driving home from cheerleading practice in California or
seven-and-a-half months pregnant walking the dog or
jogging at night in Central Park. Our lady of Troy
takes many forms, but is never LOST,
is alive or deceased, never stays not-dead.
She is safe from that cold glass case,
will never have her picture replaced
in a few months by another
young black girl
smiling brightly at the camera.
Eight Belles
Whenever I think of not-eating,
of fasting or starving,
of skipping lunch because dinner’s enough,
of calorie labels, calorie counting,
calorie free, as in
freedom from calories!
liberate yourself from energy bondage!
resist the tyranny of measurement!
I try to think of self-kindness,
of nourishment,
of the saying: any body is a bikini body
but I all hear is anybody, like meat,
a mud woman, a torso,
armless-legless-headless,
only the important parts left.
Really, though, I think of Eight Belles
rounding the last curve at the Kentucky Derby
all power, all legs, outstretched, out striding
the men, the colts like pistols, their hooves
like pistons, but what’s a machine
to a filly, what’s a man to a racehorse,
her neck slick with sweat, her mind
sleek with scarlet, roses, winning.
I think of eight bells, eight brassy rings
reverberating over the ocean, the sound of a sailor
dying, and I watch her stumble on the track,
her champagne-glass ankles shattering,
bone splintering, her leg bending
backwards like a twig, snapped, the sound
of a horse dying
because thinner ankles
breed faster fillies.
Interview with the Poet
1. What is your inspiration for the piece?
My inspiration for “Eight Belles” came from a horse I remembered hearing about as a child, Eight Belles. She was an impressive filly and raced in the 2008 Kentucky Derby. Unfortunately, she broke both her front ankles during the race and was put down on the track. My inspiration for “Helen of Troy goes Missing in Wyoming” originated from Gabby Petito’s disappearance in Wyoming and the extreme media attention given to her case.
2. What is your creative process?
I’m fortunate that I’m currently pursuing a degree in creative writing and have professors motivating me to write, but my creative process always begins with observation. I try to take in as much as I can from the world around me, attempting to find interesting stories, juxtapositions, images, and phrases from others from the world around me. I take these observations to the page and tease out their meanings. After finishing the poem's first, often meandering draft, I heavily edit (this is where I spend the bulk of time when I write poems). This part of the process often feels like carpentry; every word, line break, and punctuation mark should work to support the larger piece. When I feel thoroughly exhausted and rather fed up with my language, I put the piece away and try to forget I ever wrote it. After a while, I go back and repeat the editing process until I feel somewhat confident with the final piece, until I feel there are no holes in the writing you can stick your fingers through.
3. What are some influences on your creative process?
Other poets have a huge influence on my work––some of my current favorites include Ada Limón, Joy Harjo, and Natalie Diaz. I love seeing how other writers use language to translate their lived experiences into poetry, particularly when they do so with kindness, grit, and awe. There’s also this fantastic book called Madness, Rack, and Honey by Mary Ruefle that highly influenced my creative process and the way I think about poetry.