Polly want a GMO biscut?

I'm trying to write a poem today. Of course I got sidetracked by gathering information for my poem and only got around to starting it - but hey, starting it is 1/2 the battle. Biopiaracy......such a juicy word. Chock full of all the best stories in the world. That's what I'm writing my poem about: The patenting of animal/plant/human genes for profit by major corporations. I am trying to enter this contest that involves "green" poems. For the record, I hate (yes, I said hate) themed poetry readings. I suppose they all serve a purpose - quit smacking women around, save a whale, save America, plant a fucking tree, yadayadayada - they just feel so contrived. Like, why do I all of a sudden feel compelled to write about the environment just because I might get to hang out with Robert Redford if I win? It's similar to everybody becoming a patriot after 9/11. Blah. I'm not even going to go there. Regardless of my cynicism, I'm going to write a fantastic poem (I've actually been wanting to write this one for quite some time now). The upside to this is that I work well under duress ( deadline is in a week and a 1/2), and I don't have to think for myself, I already have a topic - YAY!! Har har har, maties! Swab yer genomes off the poop deck ye bastards! 'Ol Lolita's writin' a poem 'bout yer sorry biopirating arsses! Yar! That wench is mighty fierce when she gits er bustle in a twist and brandishes you with with er inky bic, you salty land stealing lovers!