The Great Migration is a poem about leaving, about the excitement of heading out into a great unknown. It's also a poem about expulsion, about diaspora, about being forced to from home, in some sense about my emigration to Canada. Or it’s about the migration of spermatozoa up the fallopian tubes, ever hopeful of successful fertilization. To be truthful, this is a work that remains somewhat mysterious to me.

The viewer reads the poem by touching one of the beasties. Each of them is built from a different line of the text. When a beastie is captured, it begins spawning the words from that line, one by one.