A Noisless Patient Microbiologist

In a laboratory spotless as eternity
  he cops a feel on Genesis
  and spins a dozen patentable organisms
    off before his morning coffee.
Oh, Mother of Glass
Oh, Pyrex Bride, pristine womb crystaline
Will Eden's Landlord at last hit the welfare rolls?

He clapped his waldoes and squealed, "Eureka,
  we cracked the mortal genome!"
And the assistants, smug in their green smocks
  chortled when he suggested:
"Perhaps an extra cytosine on
  chromosome seventeen, I've never liked
  mustaches on Italian women."