Byron has an embryo
Behold the unborn Byron grow
His budding brain grows ears and eyes
Soon he swells to twice his size
He drinks in with his mother's blood
A subtle philosophic food
Distilled from that good woman's sense
A strong poetic influence
She calls him and he answers back From
the amniotic sac
He says,
spread the word tomorrow morn
A future poet shall be born
My mother I shall fall
Into the womb
that holds us all
My life shall be a meteor Which generations shall adore
For my unbuttoned liberty The unborn will
remember me
