The last known video of one of the last known thylacines is forever haunting. Nervously this beautiful creatures paces behind a wire fence, as if it intuitively understands the others of its kind might soon be gone. When that thylacine was captured and forced into captivity, its kind would’ve been considered an Edge Species. The word “edge” is critical, as it succinctly describes a species trajectory and directly implies the immediate peril.

Within this digital poem there are 60 such edge species. Each species name emerges on the top of a block, all contained within a generative maze. The names then fall from the block’s edge, stretched downwards towards the empty space beneath a 3d plane. A new pattern is formed each time the work is re-launched, new names appear, the pattern changes, the blocks moved.

The 3D plane itself represents the perilous slice of ecosystem history in which we currently live. And a low, droning soundtrack loops and loops, as the edge species names fall and fall. Glitches intersect with the names, eliciting the notion that no species is apart, away from others. They are all interconnected, however distant or close to the edge.