My California
—After Lee Herrick
For those studying fractions, it’s blue glory
sky over diamond-littered ocean, which reduces
evenly to Beauty, with no remainder. Every beach kid
can learn this math. Add rain and you get
mustard flowers encouraged to wild
proliferation. They yellow-tint foothills,
color spilling toward the train tracks
and Emma Wood beach. This is my California—
a state so large it could contain the world.
A tan shirtless man leans into the engine
of his van. He wears rolled-up black corduroys, black
hat, silver earrings, mythic tattoos. Painted
clouds group over St. Rosa Island. My
California is green, and getting greener.
My California after rain is like Niall’s Ireland.
A car with open windows plays loud music:
“Please, baby baby please!” Synthesizer
alien sounds, guitar solo. It’s not even
powering up – says the van man to another
tan who shows up on a tricked-out bicycle.
My California, where it feels like nothing bad
can happen, and no one has to go to work.
The wind-sculpted cypresses look over the bluff, down
at the RVs with their awnings, bright flags and barbeques.
Squirrels make their homes in the piles of boulders
where a blonde woman writes in a notebook.
She looks up to watch the businessman who gets out
of his car without his jacket or tie and stands straight
as geometry looking out where blue meets blue—
the angle of the sun a golden filter on water.
There is nothing hidden in his smooth face.
It is possible to have mercy today. The woman
writes slanted lines while the surf rolls slowly in and in,
and the Catholics are getting ready for Easter,
the Jews are getting ready for Passover,
the alcoholics are asking God to grant them
the serenity to change the things that are unacceptable,
the Astrologers are talking about a grand cross
and we all are enjoying Spring—warm sun
on our eyelashes, the moon too, is sharing the sky
with the sun, because it’s my California,
where all things are possible. Butterflies careen
down a one-way super-highway—all of creation
is heading to the sea. At last,
the van motor turns over like a long-awaited baby’s first cry—
like we knew it must in this hopeful light.
Published by Channel Poetry Press
About this poem: I heard Lee Herrick read his poem “My California” in 2017, and I loved it, but I wanted to write about my California. So I took his poem as inspiration to write a kind of love letter to the state I love. I used Herrick’s poem as an example when I was deciding which type of structure would ground my wild exuberance, and unintentionally, though perhaps not, we both ended on light. I think every poem is partially a dialogue with other poets. We carry one another across and translate each other. I believe the best prompt in the world is to imitate or argue with another poet’s work. Note: This poem is in my forthcoming book published through Channel Poetry Press.
What Inspires You
Poetry and the natural/spiritual world inspire me. I like to go to poetry readings with a curated featured reader, with an open mic after. I bring a notebook and jot down things I think of as I hear people read. I also try to practice what I call “Innocent Perception” for ten minutes every day. This basically means I look around me or out the window and write what I see. This simple naming of the world has turned into many nature poems and poems that observe and discover. When I get stuck on a poem that is difficult, I like to try putting it into a ridiculous form, like a rap where everything rhymes with Tyrannosaurus. This will create surprises, and I find interesting connections that heal the poem and me.
I also like to do generative work with co-workers in a pressurized environment. I get together for “poetry cross-fit” once a month with several poets. We do timed exercises with five randomly chosen constraints, such as a form, a poetic device, a required word or two, etc. We do about four 20-minute exercises like this, changing the constraints each time. The community and accountability make it fun and effective.
Bio
Felice Alexandra is a poet-shaman, yogi, meditator, and mother. She received her MFA in creative writing from Stonecoast in Maine and Ireland. She has performed her poetry all over the United States and Ireland. Her work has appeared in many fine journals. She is the recent winner of the Leon Priestnall Poetry Prize. Her first chapbook was published in March of 2026 by Channel Poetry Press.
Find the Spring 2026 Issue HERE
Previous NPM 2026 poets
| April 1 | Amy Forstadt |
| April 2 | Annette Sisson |
| April 3 | Beth Kanell |
| April 4 | Bonnie Proudfoot |
| April 5 | Charles Stringer |
| April 6 | D. Dina Friedman |
| April 7 | David Colodney |
| April 8 | Deanna Ludwin |
| April 9 | Eileen Pettycrew |
| April 10 | Felice Alexandra |