by Nick Gisburne
A serum, from a strange, exotic bug,
Is shamefully exploited, on a whim,
An isolated chemical, a drug,
Injected to regenerate a limb.
Extremities are easily removed,
And readily regain their former state.
A system of production is approved,
For quickly piling protein on the plate.
The cannibal connection, bad enough,
With volunteering victims paid for parts,
Regresses, as the wealthy sit to stuff
Their faces with authentic human hearts.
But every promised purchase is a lie.
The donors of these delicacies die.
