Kentucky Derby Poem (2008)

Eight Belles, the filly who snapped
her ankles—had to be euthanized right
on track—
              is not unlike the girl
in Moldova who leapt from five stories
to flee sex traffickers who'd stolen her.

Except the girl snapped her back, too.
Got carted to Emergency so alive
she was green bruised, red cut, begging for
more drugs.

The horse, said the news, had endured
excessive whipping.

The girl, too, of a kind.

To go back, to press on, changes nothing.

Mint in glasses, fat flowers on hats.
Horses beneath keepers, watching
for cues, waiting to move.

The girl in bed, as before. Legs hoisted
by contraptions. Doctors hovering
like captors, telling her
to lie still. They do not ask how
this happened. She dreams
of permanent escape like
the old dream of love.

The lush betting crowd cheers:
Doctors snap on rubber:

The empowered world, hiding
                        its hands in gloves.

Copyright © 2009 Liz Robbins All rights reserved
from Cimarron Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission