Late night July, Minnesota, John asleep on the glassed-in porch, Bob Dylan quiet on a cassette you made from an album I got rid of soon after you died. Years later, I regret giving up your two boxes of vinyl, which I loved. Surely they were too awkward, too easily broken for people who loved music the
Born in Saint Joseph, Joyce Sutphen is Minnesota's second Poet Laureate. She holds a Ph.D. in Renaissance Drama from the University of Minnesota and currently resides in the city of Chaska.
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|Reading Series||Good Thunder Reading Series||Minnesota|
|Reading Series||Minnesota Poetry Festival||Minnesota|
|Reading Series||Twin Cities Book Festival||Minnesota|
|Reading Series||Bloomington Writer's Festival||Minnesota|
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|Writing Program||Hamline University||Minnesota|
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According to scientists, astronauts get taller when they are in space and in Albania, nodding your head means "no" and shaking your head means "yes." This says I am going to disappear and become a parrot, sitting on my perch in some strange woman's living room, ready to imitate everything she has to say to her
On the Forty-Ninth Birthday of "The Day Lady Died"
It is 3:00 in the torpid New South, three days past Bastille Day & yes this is the form you fashioned, isn't it? Exact & fast & haunted as the opening chords of "Sweet Jane" (Mott the Hoople version),