The Disposable Man

On a Certain Experiment

The Disposable Man was never born

He was conceived, to be grown

And apart to be taken

And to shreds torn

His heart, liver, lungs

Not his own,

For he is but the field

In which they are grown

The Disposable Man

This Prometheus modern

Who silently howels and moan

As he by a beast unhuman

Is consumed and broken

Oh who would

This undeath, unbirth shall mourn?