Call Out Coyote: Poems by Seth Wieck: Preorder
*Preorders will ship in mid-February of 2026. Books included in the same order as a preorder will also ship mid-February of 2026. If you wish to purchase other books and receive them sooner, kindly order them separately.
Call Out Coyote is a striking example of work that can be achieved only through knowing a place and its people to their marrow. Wieck masterfully guides the reader on an intimate tour of the Texas Panhandle — its high-school football fields, state prisons, parish halls, dirt-floored dugouts, and freshly tilled fields. Rigorously hewn by a serious craftsman, these poems are slicked with sweat and tractor grease. Here, the dung beetle, hawk, and prairie rattler are given the same careful consideration as Virgil, Joyce, and the Psalms. Wieck’s collection makes a strong case for poetry populated by volunteer firefighters, inmates, and dryland farmers. The Panhandle — and the rest of us — are fortunate that Wieck chose to spill his ink on his native soil.
— Christian Wallace, co-creator of Landman on Paramount+, host and creator of Boomtown podcast
Seth Wieck’s Call Out Coyote is a candid and reverent collection. These poems begin close to the ground, rooted in an earth that teems with coyotes, hawks, rabbits, and snakes, wild lives reminding us that the plowed field with its tenderly sprouting crop is bordered by the wilderness it once was a part of. Call Out Coyote explores what we are sustained by and what the cost of that sustenance is, in a harsh but miraculous place where animals become fable, “a God walks on grass,” every soul is noticed and named, and there is no real division between a man and the land that has formed him— both in suffering and in hope, they are the same.
— Chera Hammons, PEN Southwest Award winning poet of Salvage List and Birds of America
The poems of Seth Wieck's debut collection declare an immanence of landscape and the infinities of love aligned with hard won wisdom. The stark clarity of the earth and the great beauty of the beloved’s body unify, composing poetry cycles of uncommon fortitude. A mystical conception of God and the daily realities of marriage, friendship, fatherhood. Birds and fences, the touch of a loving hand, the laughter of a friend, death and life in a gaze of generosity, the eyeteeth of animals and the talons of a deep resistance and even deeper hope—all is encompassed in the physical knowing that is Call Out Coyote, a collection that becomes a sanctuary to the reader, a cathedral of light, the golden hour on the great plains, and a notion of sky within the heart that lifts the soul toward what lies beyond us. These poems left me breathless with delight, broken by the sorrows of our collective shadow, and filled with immeasurable joy!
—Shann Ray, American Book Award winning author of Sweetclover and Where Blackbirds Fly
‘L'Angélus’ alone would be worth the price of admission. Its playful beauty is in sharp contrast to its hard truth. Here are poems concisely naming a fallen world with the inherent praise of verbal music again and again reversing the Fall. No wonder Wieck celebrates Finnegans Wake.
— Dr. Thomas Dilworth, author of David Jones: Engraver, Soldier, Painter, Poet and fellow of the Royal Society of Canada.
Far from the mewling crowd of contemporary poetry sits the Texas panhandle, a place poet Seth Wieck calls home. In his debut collection--Call Out Coyote—the poet does double-duty as host and witness, inviting the reader to take and eat his weathered testimony to the invasive loneliness of land and time and love. This is poetry not brash but as stark as a nineteen-story white cross or black blood in a blister.
—John Blase, poet and author
Witness the Texas panhandle and you might say, “Oh God nothing.” The beauty and terror of this stretch of earth are not obvious when driving through at 70 miles-an-hour. But Seth Wieck maps it out. Here’s a heartache, there’s a hawk, yonder goes a good man. Call Out Coyote drafts the survey so that a man might know a creek from a draw, an arrowhead from a rock, and venom from blood. When the conquistadors crossed the flat expanse of the Texas panhandle they drove stakes into the ground to mark where they’d been so as to not wander in circles, yet in this collection, Seth Wieck maps the wind between two places and gives it a name.
—Ryan Culwell, singer-songwriter
