To the editors:

From the midst of your last issue [September 14] poured out a fold out [“Around the Coyote ’90”]. On it were the mysterious figures that have appeared here on the streets. While walking with myself the other night I noticed the primary school colored figures with paw prints trailing off into dark alleys and real estate office coffers. What were they?

My first theory was the visitation of some alien visitors leaving their mark like they do in those corn fields. A strange trans-rational map that would lead either to A TREMENDOUS BENEFICIAL LEAP FOR ALL MANKIND or the slow painful extinction of all life on earth. This theory seemed too grandiose to be true.

I then conjectured that it was some new kind of gang sign. Perhaps all the gangs in Chicago were in the process of adopting animist symbols for themselves. Soon I would see flamingoes and zebras turned upside down on the side of the bakery. But I wrote this theory off on urban paranoia.

So it was with great glee that I opened the fold out that poured out of your weekly. These strange symbols were in fact Coyotes. Proud wild animals that have resurfaced in the urban anti-jungle. But these coyotes, there is something wrong. They only have two legs, a mere half of the desired number. What had happened?

Perhaps these coyotes found themselves caught in a steel trap. And so they gnawed off not one but two legs. The pain they must have felt. And now I stare down at these wounded pained coyotes crying out in the night sounding like the anguished cries of the screaming woman at Division and Ashland.

Who has laid these traps? Who is it that beats out the death rattle on the Ludwig Drum? For whose Easy Life were these coyotes maimed? Were they visitors from the Century 21? Or was it a being much closer to home, much closer to heart?

Dave Buchen

W. Division