A poem by Leeza Coleman
Does the advent of lab-grown meat mean a battle’s been won
and that the war against profiteering from pain is done;
and of its general benignity one can be sure,
and that for commodification it will be the cure?
Is “less” pain-slavery-death an acceptable outcome
enduring suffering perpetrated on “only” some:
still perpetual agony of someone who was born,
from whom all possibility of peace and joy was torn?
Just because fresh flesh-from-the-lab is now achievable,
its claims to beneficence may seem quite believable;
when technically cruelty-free flesh is available,
Its claims to compassion can appear unassailable,
When the good and gentle folks who bring you vivisection
now offer a science project for your delectation,
how not to see in one’s mind’s eye among those at this work
the desultory appearance of a cynical smirk?
How to think that flesh-from-the lab will agony buffer,
And not remember the “fake news” that no one will suffer,
with no end to the horrors of commodification
merely to the number of abused modification?
Policies and procedures of commodification
are not effectively subjected to moderation:
“reducing” exploitation: a counterfeit intention
driven by agendas of Machiavellian invention.
Even good consequences of what science has given
can’t obviate abominations cruelty driven;
paradise-on-earth not even an approximation:
Only equal rights for all without equivocation.
Dauntless research by our indomitable vivisectors
turns those of us who partake into Hannibal Lecters;
terrorism of exploitation continues to thrive
for individuals who are still joylessly alive.
Lab-concocted flesh itself not the crux of the matter,
but commodification of others off of the platter.
Zero tolerance for enslavement – zero for abuse. –
No one else – regardless of species – is here for our use.