“So like a fish-bowl, this bluish-green orb
With God’s gangly germs suspended inside.
What a pity that it grew all murky
And mistook for food, grains of cyanide!
The ones here with duplicate chromosomes
Have proven quite difficult to dissuade
But shame their tenderness adequately
And eventually you’ll be obeyed.
Now these with the differing chromosomes—
Less agreeable, but also, simpler—
Just keep them inactive, out of the light,
And thoroughly drugged, to quell their temper.
Ideally, the females should mutilate
Their once-beloved dolls, begrudgingly hate
Males as the cause of their motherly fate
And wed instead the androgynous State.
Then stunted, frustrated, lonesome, bereft
Empty-handed, yet accused of all theft
Called to defend that from which they were cleft
The males will defect, for nothing is left!”