I

of-

ten

dream

of

huge,

numb

buil-

dings

Jet-

black,

si-

nis-

ter

ar-

chi-

tec-

ture

Being

ins-

talled

when

no-

bo-

dy

sees

Their

ap-

pea-

rance

so

sud-

den

That

few

would

take

no-

tice

And

when

I

wake

up

I

i-

ma-

gine

be-

ing

crushed

by

one

I-

ma-

gi-

ning

its

weight,

its

si-

lence

And

the

ab-

sence

of

ex-

cuses

for

a

ha-

voced

life

And

the

pri-

vi-

lege

of

a

2-

2-

ki-

lo-

me-

ter

tombs-

tone

Jo-

tun

A

bo-

dy

of

black

That

car-

ried

no

ref-

lec-

tion

De-

fy-

ing

its

own

room

Unearth-

ly

eggs

of

dec-

re-

a-

tion

There

would

be

co-

lo-

nies

Mush-

room-

scat-

tered,

fo-

re-

ver

out

of

con-

text

Ri-

sing

spores

from

a

dy-

ing

world

To

pol-

lute,

to chase

a-

way

what's

left

Sun-

white,

pul-

ve-

rized

des-

ert

stone

And

ser-

pen-

tine

li-

zard

mouths

Pa-

les

a-

way

the

py-

ra-

mids

Re-

wri-

ting

4,-

500

years

of

his-

to-

ry

Ra-

ping

the

sta-

tue

of

li-

ber-

ty

Out-

plays

the

ac-

ro-

po-

lis

In-

ver-

ting

the

fjords

In-

vades

the

N.-

Y.

skyl-

ine

to

Dream

its

own

e-

xis-

tence

in

one

single

fi-

nal

word

Jo-

tun

A

bo-

dy

of

black

That

car-

ried

no

ref-

lec-

tion

De-

fy-

ing

its

own

room

Un-

earth-

ly

eggs

of

dec-

re-

a-

tion

A

bo-

dy

of

black

That

car-

ried

no

ref-

lec-

tion

De-

fy-

ing

its

own

room

Un-

earth-

ly

eggs

of

dec-

re-

a-

tion

Can we

i-

den-

ti-

fy

them

As

the

flint

bu-

ried

in

our

rep-

tile

skulls

Or

the

time-

bomb

co-

ded

in

our

D-

N-

A

Jo-

tun

A

bo-

dy

of

black

That

car-

ried

no

ref-

lec-

tion

De-

fy-

ing

its

own

room

Un-

earth-

ly

e-

ggs

of

dec-

re-

a-

tion