Rich Ferguson: California Poets Part 9, Three Poems

Rich Ferguson

December 22nd, 2025

California Poets: Part IX

Rich Ferguson

Three Poems

Your Counseling and Treatment in the Last 12 Months

1.      In the last 12 months did you receive counseling, treatment, or medicine for throwing a lamp or computer out the window?

	Yes = If Yes, go to question 2
	No = If No, go to question 4

2.      In the last 12 months, have you ever tried wearing

a dark, rushing river as a second skin?

	Yes = If Yes, go to question 3
	No = If No, go to question 5

3.      In the last 12 months, how often did you have nightmares

about the time when you were 9—ordering Sea Monkeys

through the mail, expecting a vibrant kingdom

replete with a monarch, minions, and treasures,

but only received a packet of brine shrimp instead?

	Never
	Sometimes
	Usually
	Always

4.      In the last 12 months, have you ever felt

your earlobes being kissed by moonlight?

	Yes = If Yes, go to question 6
	No = If No, go to question 7

5.      In the last 12 months, how often did the people

you went to for counseling or treatment

listen carefully when detailing that night

you got drunk and tongue-tied, slurring Rice Krispies,

when you’d meant the philosopher Chrysippus?

	Never
	Sometimes
	Usually
	Always

6.      In the last 12 months, did you take

any prescription medicines as part

of your treatment?

	Yes = If Yes, go to question 8
	No = If No, go to question 10

7.      In the last 12 months, were you told

about different self-help or support groups

for people with the overwhelming desire

to chia-pet their neighbor’s shrubs?

	Yes
	No

8.      In the last 12 months, how often

did you spend time examining yourself

in the mirror, trying to figure out

where you hurt the least?

	None
	1
	2
	3 or more

9.      In the last 12 months, how often

did you reflect upon your childhood,

when you’d sneak off to mall security,

claiming you were lost, just to hear

the sound of your name being paged?

	Never
	Sometimes
	Usually
	Always

10.  Compared to 12 months ago,

how would you rate your problems

or symptoms now?

	Better
	About the same
	Worse
	Much worse

Hungry Ghost

This is how our story is told: A sucker punch in reverse. Bruises, backlash, and scarred beginnings. You appear to disappear only to reappear. You orchid molester, tuning fork hell-bent by lechery. Even when I’ve used despair as amnesia mechanism, I still can’t shake you. Worm womb, devil’s divining rod, you’re always just a ruin and rumination away. The rotted meat hanging off your bones attracts stinkbugs and sickophants. No bullet or fist can punch holes in your breath. You bounce back jabberjawed and godsmacked, clean as freshly laundered money. My hungry ghost, we are not strangers, you and me. Countless times, I’ve locked you in my deepest, darkest panic closet, but you still escape. The war you wage is a war I wage against myself. To transcend is to be free. When I imagine you in your grave, I am dreaming of you as my slave.

When the Souls of Amelia Earhart and Langston Hughes Cross Paths

after Judy Grahn

She calls him: poem rocket.

He calls her: slow-roll ghost.

She calls him: Lenox Avenue hallelujah Cadillac.

He calls her: white dance on a dark-skinned night.

He says: cloud kisser, highstepper of the Ninety-Nines.

She says: lyric-tongued trailblazer, jazz Electra wing dancer.

He says: unknower of.

She says: Morse code.

She calls him: ebony heart on ivory page, sorrow stone            

skipping across ragtime rivers.

He calls her: dusky bayou drum goddess, a rhythm            

of disappearance beat into the blood.

He says: an itch in the imagination.

She says: that can’t be scratched.

She calls him: seeker of all things circling.

He calls her: shadow soaring over a dream deferred.

Interview

December 27th, 2025

California Poets Interview Series:

Rich Ferguson, Poet, Novelist, Perfomer

interviewed by David Garyan

DG: I’d like to start with your tenure as California Beat Poet Laureate from 2020 to 2022 and U.S. Beat Poet Laureate from 2024 to 2025. Which projects or events did you work on during that time and what, in general, were those two separate experiences like for you?

RF: Of those two experiences, my time as California Beat Poet Laureate stands out the most. When I received the honor during COVID, I knew I wanted to do something meaningful that celebrated the diversity of writers across my state. Collaborating with visual artist and writer Kathleen Florence, we developed the idea for Beat, Not Beat, an anthology of California writers reflecting on the Beat legacy.

I assembled an incredible team of editors—S.A. Griffin, Alexis Rhone Fancher, and S.F. Poet Laureate Kim Shuck—and together we gathered voices from across our poetic communities. The project was championed by Eric Morago, editor of Moon Tide Press.

The most rewarding parts were discovering and amplifying the voices of writers like K.R. Morrison, Tongo Eisen-Martin, Q.R. Hand Jr., and assembling the collection with S.A. Griffin. We spread the poems across my living room floor and carefully shaped the anthology, building it from the center outward to create a strong, cohesive narrative. It was a deeply collaborative project and a highlight of my tenure, and I’m proud of how it captured both shared and unique perspectives within California’s literary landscape.

DG: In 2016, you released New Jersey Me, a debut novel set in your native New Jersey. Could you talk about how the writing process was either similar or different from writing poetry, and if you’re thinking about writing more prose?

RF: Writing New Jersey Me was quite a different process. In poetry, I can rely on familiar poetic devices like dirge, alliteration, enjambment, or free verse. With my first novel, I had to concentrate on story structure, character development, narrative arc, and building a strong beginning, middle, and end—all of this was pretty new to me.

I was fortunate to be part of a novel-writing group led by Sid Stebel (RIP), which provided invaluable feedback during difficult times. I initially wrote the book as a collection of stories, but after sharing it with Tyson Cornell at Rare Bird Books, he matched me with editor Seth Fischer. Seth helped me reshape it into a more traditional novel with chapters. 

There was a moment when I truly missed writing poetry, so I transformed one chapter into a spoken-word style rant. I wasn’t sure how Seth would respond—but that chapter ended up being one of his favorites. It reminded me that blending the poetic with the narrative can create something unexpected and exciting.

DG: In addition to working across genres of poetry and fiction, you also blend film and verse. What are some of your favorite performances and do you ever write any specific work with scenes already in mind, or does the result of each piece determine whether you want to turn it into a short movie or not?

RF: A memorable film experience for me was watching One Giant Leap and reaching out to the director, Jamie Catto, to tell him how much it meant to me. After he saw my first spoken word video, Bones, he invited me to join his next film, What About Me?, which featured artists from around the world, including Michael Stipe and k.d. lang. Being part of that project was incredible and really opened my eyes to the possibilities of blending poetry and film on a global level.

I’ve also worked with Mark Wilkinson on three spoken word/music videos: “All the Times,” “Human Condition,” and “What Was Said at the Reunion of Deathbed Wishes.” Sometimes he comes with specific shots in mind, and other times ideas develop spontaneously while we’re on set. For “All the Times,” we went all out with visuals. One scene shows me on Hollywood Boulevard wearing swim fins and a mask, and another has me playing a preacher-like character ranting from a stage to an audience of three people. Those projects were a lot of fun and really helped me explore performance in a very visual way.

Recently, I’ve been working with filmmaker Kathleen Florence. Over the past four years, we’ve made three short films and several poetry videos together. Our work has been shown at venues in Los Angeles, and working with her allows my poems to fully come alive on screen. She brings a cinematic eye and creative energy that pushes me to think and create in new ways.

Overall, I’m open to whatever a director or collaborator imagines. Sometimes, the more uncomfortable the challenge, the more it inspires new ways of thinking and creating.

DG: Is there a different performative element reading poems on stage, facing an audience, as opposed to being in front of the camera?

RF: Historically, I use more energy and bigger gestures on stage and tone it down in front of a camera. Lately, I’ve been experimenting with keeping my energy more contained on stage and slowing my words. After a few shows, people have told me that they could understand my poems much better. 

I’ve also been collaborating with musicians, including Butch Norton, the band WHY? and Petty Chavez. That connection to music gets back to my roots as a musician and percussionist, and performing on stage remains an integral part of how I experience and share my poetry.

DG: Another feather in your cap has been teaching. How would you describe your teaching style, what materials do you tend to use, and how do these activities influence your own work?

RF: I’ve been teaching for many years and have great admiration for my students who show resilience and eagerness to learn every day. That has taught me a lot about optimism and perseverance. While I have to work within a structured curriculum, I always try to include moments of poetry, music, and creativity. My teaching has influenced my own writing—for example, in my collection Somewhere, a Playground, I wrote a poem about introducing a student to Nirvana for the first time.

DG: LA is the city that has defined your life and work. What are your favorite spots to read, to film in, and what, also, are the challenges of writing in an atmosphere as saturated as that?

RF: LA has so many incredible spots for reading and performing. Beyond Baroque is a literary hotspot I love returning to. I’ve also enjoyed performing with WHY? at Healing Force of the Universe in Pasadena, at the Poetry & Whiskey Salon in the home of Jackson Browne’s brother, at Skylight Books, WACKO in Hollywood, and even once in a graveyard in Santa Monica.

DG: What are you reading or working on these days?

RF: Right now, I’m focused on touring my book Somewhere, A Playground with Moon Tide Press. After launching at Beyond Baroque, I performed in Reno, Nevada, and in the spring of 2026, I’ll be in Santa Barbara and at the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur. It’s shaping up to be an exciting year, and I’m open to invitations to perform wherever the book can connect with readers.

Author Bio:

Pushcart Prize-nominated poet Rich Ferguson has shared the stage with Patti Smith, Wanda Coleman, Moby, and other esteemed poets and musicians. Ferguson was selected by the National Beat Poetry Foundation, Inc. (NBPF) to serve as the U.S. Beat Poet Laureate (2023-24) and the State of California Beat Poet Laureate (Sept. 2020 to Sept. 2022). In 2022, he received an artist-in-residence grant from the Valparaiso Foundation in Spain. He is a featured performer in the film What About Me? featuring Michael Stipe, Michael Franti, k.d. lang, and others. His poetry and award-winning spoken-word music videos have appeared in numerous anthologies and festivals, and he was a winner in Opium Magazine’s Literary Death Match, L.A. He is the author of the poetry collections 8^th& Agony (Punk Hostage Press), Everything Is Radiant Between the Hates (Moon Tide Press), Somewhere, a Playground, and the novel New Jersey Me (Rare Bird Books). Ferguson is the lead editor of an anthology of CA poets entitled Beat Not Beat (Moon Tide Press).