AWP, the nature documentary

Pan to a vertical forest, glass and rafters. Different pack animals congregate, traverse the hills, the escalators, elevators. I am a lone dragon here. To travel solitary means having the opportunity to observe others. I wander.In one level, tiny woodlands. Little pockets to hide. To meet others. To graze. On another, open views. You can see the sky. In another, dense forest. Creatures prowl, attack, bandy their products, shit on one another, in one another's territory, piss on their own territory, rub up against each other, mark trees and booths and other's bodies. "See this bear. I'm going home with this bear. It's my bear. Step off my bear." I try to tell them, though: "I didn't want to go home with your bear. I just liked your bear's poems and wanted to tell him." Girl bears spend a lot of time preening and a lot of time growling. Boy bears spend a lot of time rubbing their backs up against the girl bears, tongues lolling out, begging for relief.

"People won't mess with you. You look tough, scary," one gazelle tells me. "You're a dragon." I want to make friends and the animal kingdom shys away. When I dare approach them, they ruffle their feathers. "See. Look. I'm tough too. I'm scary. Look at my glorious mane. You don't scare me. I'll eat you alive." Or, "My feathers are so much prettier, more glorious than your measley scales, your spiney wings."

Some who know me don't remember me, or forget me, or pretend that I am scary or ugly even when they know better. Some, however, venture beyond. Some brave my sharp, sharp teeth. Some hold their hands out. I make temporary friends, little pockets of time, we graze together. I fly coops and drink at different ponds. I look for my own pack and cannot find one. Cannot hold on to the people I know as they travel with their own groups. Nobody seems to be able to hold on to a whole group for long but everyone seems happy prancing through the meadow, the sunlight shining on their backs, their faces gleaming in a wonderous daze, absorbing the bliss of this little eden in its fall.