[Zeus] Anatomical Dolls

It’s hard to explain. Let me show you
with the anatomical dolls. They have buttons for eyes
and details under their pants you wouldn’t believe –
look underneath at the girl’s folded labia, vagina,
the tucked-in silk-and-string umbilical
of a pull-down, poppet foetus, or the male’s
miniature penis, his cotton-bag scrotum,
his sphincter ringed in little puckered stitches.
So the girl doll took off her frilly knickers
and the boy doll pushed down his trousers
and did this, and you might think it was love
if you hadn’t seen Act One, the male doll
playing Punch, Judy trembling and bruised,
her bloody nose. Tell me what’s the word for this,
this spreading of the legs and lips to delay violence,
and where’s the rough music, all my charivari pots
and wooden spoons to out you Zeus,
to drive you through the streets, with songs
that find a name for you at last,
you filthy pimp, you animal, you rapist.