On March 21, 2012, Governor Jerry Brown appointed Juan Felipe Herrera as the California poet laureate. Herrera is the author of twenty-eight books and currently serves as the Tomas Rivera Endowed Chair in the Department of Creative Writing at the University of California, Riverside. Herrera's work has received wide critical acclaim including numerous national and international awards. He is currently a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets.

Alejandro Murguía is San Francisco’s sixth poet laureate and the first Latino poet to hold the position. An editor, translator, literary organizer, and prose writer, he is the author of the poetry collections Stray Poems (City Lights Books, 2014) and Native Tongue (CC. Marimbo Press, 2012), among others.

upcoming events

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Apr 18 2015 to Apr 19 2015
Los Angeles Times Book Festival

A chance to meet your favorite authors, hear live music, see original works of art and photography, listen to poetry and even taste culinary creations that reflect this city’s diversity. For more information, visit:

Saturday, April 18, 2015 | 10 a.m. – 6 p.m.
Sunday, April 19, 2015 | 10 a.m. – 5 p.m.


10:00am to 5:00pm
University Park Campus
90089 Los Angeles, California
Apr 05 2015
Marc Olmsted on Allen Ginsberg

Remembering Allen Ginsberg on the 18th anniversary of his passing as Marc Olmsted discusses the poet with a new book Don't Hesitate: Knowing Allen Ginsberg 1972-1997 - Letters and Recollenctions.

261 Columbus Avenue
94133 San Francisco, California
Apr 02 2015
Lunch Poems presents Jane Hirshfield

Lunch Poems is a noontime poetry reading series under the direction of UC Berkeley Professor Robert Hass.

101 Doe Library
94720 Berkeley, California
Poetry in California
Juan Felipe Herrera
California poet laureate

Juan Felipe Herrera

Born in Fowler, California, on December 27, 1948, Herrera is director of the Art and Barbara Culver Center for the Arts, a multimedia space in...


What are you thinking about?

I am thinking of an early summer.
I am thinking of wet hills in the rain
Pouring water.  Shedding it
Down empty acres of oak and manzanita
Down to the old green brush tangled in the sun,
Greasewood, sage, and spring mustard.
Or the hot wind coming down from Santa Ana
  What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
  In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
  What peaches and what penumbras
Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,

certain airy white blossoms punctually
reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink—
a delicate abundance. They seemed

like guests arriving joyfully on the