I often dream of huge, numb buildings
Jet-black, sinister architecture
Being installed when nobody sees
Their appearance so sudden
That few would take notice
And when I wake up
I imagine being crushed by one
Imagining its weight, its silence
And the absence of excuses for a havoced life
And the privilege of a 22-kilometre tombstone
Jotun
A body of black
That carried no reflection
Defying its own room
Un-earthly eggs of decreation
There would be colonies
Mushroom-scattered, forever out of context
Rising spores from a dying world
To pollute, to chase away what's left
Sun-white, pulverised desert stone
And serpentine lizard mouths
Pales away the pyramids
Rewriting 4,500 years of history
Raping the statue of liberty
Outplays the acropolis
Inverting the fjords
Invades the N.Y. skyline to
Dream its own existence in one single final word
Jotun
Can we identify them
As the flint buried in our reptile skulls
Or the time-bomb coded in our DNA