The Statistic Helen Poem by Teresa Pelka

The statistic Helen, though intent,
Wasn't shaped Hippolyta to befriend:
In common such an airy bit,
Ha'p'orth, indeed, so petite,
Illiberal, array a detail,
Apt, word-province, grandeur to belittle,
Most oft, voiceless merely, glottal,
And not a stop.
Should we not just have it chopped?

Hidebound like a numerical fact,
Hesitation that occasions ―
Vowel double act,
Put to note, time and again, post-haste:
Would it have vexed Theseus taste?

Arisen of mid-vanity,
Bore yet to eternity;
Would the simple letter humane
Tell to hold Troy? Horse's hair?