A poem about a future where tech goes very wrong.
There are a lot of giants around. This is one.
When you're a kid, you dream crazy dreams. If you're lucky, the dreams don't entirely go away. Grrr.
Do you fancy a bit of monster poetry? Not poetry by a monster, mind you, but poetry about a monster. Or six.
He's not the hero we need but he is the hero we...well, wait. He's definitely the hero we need. On our chips and our salads and maybe on the side of our chili.
“Hope” is the thing with tentacles –
That lurks in shadowed eave –