Watched You Disappear
poems by Patricia Markert
About the Book | About the Author | Excerpts & Audio
About Watched You Disappear
In these poems, Patricia Markert reports on our world—the news, the movies, the multitasking—and the currents of love that carry us through it. Five letters to her daughter form the core of Watched You Disappear. Poems of grief are followed by memories of early romance and all through these poems moves a swimmer who loves the water.
“Markert’s meticulous, observant, and compassionate voice marks every page of this small volume. While grief and loss are keynotes, the poet has made a lyric home for herself in our shared language—her gaze, lighting on the ordinary world, is both dazzled and dazzling.”
—Cynthia Zarin
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About the Author
Patricia Markert was born and grew up in Syracuse, New York. While she was an undergraduate at the University of Iowa, she edited Me Too, a literary magazine, with Mary Swanson. Since moving to New York City in 1976 she has worked in the publishing industry and is now a librarian. Her poetry has been published in American Poetry Review, St. Luke’s Review and Home Planet News. Her blog is patriciamarkert.blogspot.com.
Excerpts & Audio
Housework
I see it there on the floor
the mitten soon to be half a pair
another casualty of winter.
Everywhere I go I leave something behind.
At school (I hope)
is the warm mitten
the other half to that
one on the floor
or that shoelace
or that button
to the green plaid pants
I’ll get to it and pick it up
it’s just now I’m busy
gotta stir the sauce
before it clots
and sticks to
the bottom of the pan
gotta run the water
to soak the dishes
gotta wipe the counter
and feed the cat
which means wiping the crumbs
from the cutting board
in order to slice
the fresh chicken liver
the only thing he’ll eat
and that reminds me
I have to change his litter.
It’s beginning to stink.
It’s a pity I didn’t buy laundry
detergent or I’d throw in
a load of wash
while I’m waiting
for the spaghetti to cook.
Kick that button under the couch.Patricia Markert
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