i woke up thinking about the guy who said to me in bobolink meadow that dogs disrupt the migratory pattern of birds unless you keep them on the leash and on the path it's a city ordinance. while we stood in a landscape with some thirty humans with shovels and rakes and wheelbarrows clearing underbrush from a meadow built on top of the first nuclear bomb site. just before i was like a kid watching the coyote run free. but it's dog's, dog's are the enemy.

where do i belong in the migration? disruptor of bird migrations, disruptor of park policy, traipsing the human pattern of migration nowhere, of clearing human nature of nature, of suspect vegetation, of insidious fishes, of beaver who eat ornamental trees, a radical in a scrape, in a landscape of control, with a clear-cut policy on invasive species, an invasive species, boy wanting to be animal,  coydog, chancy hybrid, preterite animal, man wanting coyote, feeling the fear of being exposed and wild inside in a place as devastated as this.