Minnesota

Born in St. 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.

upcoming events

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Apr 27 2017
National Poetry Month open-mic event

Poetry is a powerful vehicle for celebrating and sharing our personal narratives.  This April we’re joining Minneapolis-based Milkweed Editions and other independent booksellers across the state to commemorate the fusion of art and history.  We’re inviting poets of all ages and experience levels to share their favorites –published or original– during our first annual Poem in Your Pocket Day open-mic event.  

Every April, on Poem in Your Pocket Day, people celebrate by selecting a poem, carrying it with them, and sharing it with others throughout the day at schools, bookstores, libraries, parks and workplaces.  We’d love to hear you recite your selection at the History Center.  

7:00pm
130 Minnesota Ave SW
56601 Bemidji, Minnesota

recent & featured listings

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Reading Series Good Thunder Reading Series Minnesota
Reading Series University of Minnesota Reading Series Minnesota
Reading Series SlamMN Minnesota
Reading Series Twin Cities Book Festival Minnesota
Reading Series Deep Valley Book Festival Minnesota
Writing Program Hamline University Minnesota
Writing Program English at Macalester College Minnesota
Writing Program MSU-Mankato M.F.A. Program Minnesota
Writing Program MSU-Moorhead M.F.A. Program Minnesota
Writing Program Southwest Minnesota State University Minnesota
Poetry in Minnesota
Minnesota poet laureate

Joyce Sutphen

Joyce Sutphen is the author of Modern Love & Other Myths (Red Dragonfly Press, 2015), After Words (Red Dragonfly Press, 2013), and First Words (...

poems

poem

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

poem
I am thirty-three and working in an expensive clothier, 
selling suits to men I call "Sir."
These men are muscled, groomed and cropped--
with wives and families that grow exponentially.
Mostly I talk of rep ties and bow ties,
of full-Windsor knots and half-Windsor knots,
of tattersall, French cuff, and English
poem
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