August 1, 2026

the coyotes howl
and yip
and screech a bit
and there’s definitely more than three or four of them
and i’ve never experienced coyotes in a group, the
extent of my wild sighting(s) was
mangy
sick
solitary
scrounging around
barely alive
barely surviving
i thought the first one was a
sickly domesticated dog, until i described it to my dad
and he said
“coyote.
definitely.”

but these seemed wild and vital and collective
and though we howled back
[probably stupidly, as humans do]
we just wanted to hear them
again and again and again
for it was something few of us had ever experienced before
and might never again
and i hope nature is healing in ways
we might not be able to even see, because we are observing
[almost]
every
single
way
we’re fucking it up,
and having hope would be
fucking fantastic for my mental health
and for the physical health of
literally every living being on the planet
and the planet itself
so i hope for hope
which, definitionally is a hope itself
and in this moment it was sparked by the first wild howl
of a family of coyotes
i have ever
ever
ever heard

July 9, 2025

a family
a train ride
and thousands of sunflowers
in fields rolling past
at 266 km/h

and somehow it all reminds me of
van Gogh’s paintings
and how much i want to become
an impressionist

~~~

i just got so confused
as to why the baby in front of me
wasn’t crying in response to the
baby crying in the next train car over

and then i remembered that babies are not dogs
who bark and howl to be heard by others
of their species…

~~~

this whole trip
is a whirlwind

this whole life
kind of is
too

at least i have a train car
inside which to sit and write
all my silly poems

~~~

every
single
time
another train passes directly by
i
am
startled

~~~

there are
so many more palm trees
than i ever would have expected
in Europe

[i think that’s on me tho,
because climate is a known thing]

~~~

i think
if you’ve seen
any
van Gogh painting
of nature
or landscape

you’ve seen the full spirit of
what these trains speed past