Spare Rib soup local code for fetus soup

Is it a realness really?
Or do we abrogate
And sink into our abyss
And miss
The power to confiscate
Those minds that feel
Normality
With a fetus in a bowl
Of noodles in a restaurant
And are prepared to extoll

The wonderful enlightenment
Of this melange on the eye
Of the would be consumer
Who is ready to rely
On its holistic properties
To enhance their sexual drive
Moronic to the point of no return
To be alive
Thinking such thoughts
Truthfully says to me that they
Need a course in empathy
Somewhere along the way

Clearly their instability
Has reached a dangerous phase
The restaurants that are dealing
Someone has to raise
The question of this practice
For what is happening now
Is absolute insanity
And the suggestion how

Can it be on a menu
Can it be known about
They have a local code I hear
The language they do flout
“Spare ribs” soup its known as
The cesspit of cuisine
From the gutter they do utter
The cries of the obscene

What is eternal wickedness
The cloven hoofed brigade
Iniquity with a capital I
Upon their hearts is laid
The total degeneration
Of a nation under fire
The shamelessness of suffering
How men could now conspire

To offer this disgraceful broth
With such flagrant intent
Unpardonable suggestions
The infamous content
The unforgivable reasoning
A seasoning to seduce
The impotent to rally
And savour this sick juice

Frankly I am almost lost for words
For my dismay
The arrogance and ignorance
Of those across the way
Taiwan and China truly are
The barbarians of taste
Couched in hideosity
And permanently displaced

Story from the Seoul Times