A woman gives birth to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
except this time he has a hard shell and feelers.
"Write something," says the woman to her newborn monster.
The infant is placed in a terrarium with rocks and alphabet blocks.
The woman feeds him pancakes with some sort of unidentified berries.
Poems begin to appear, scrawled in the condensation on the walls.
Literary journals from all over clamor to reject the newborn's work.
However, a servant surreptitiously releases the babe into a local pond.
In the fullness of time, in the mud, this: "The day is done and darkness falls
From the wings of night."
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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?