Absence and trespass permeate these poems, in which what has just occurred—or what is about to—is as palpable and ominous as it is unrevealed. In Kate Northrop's finely-wrought verse, children have gone missing, sealed-off passages are discovered, and missing dogs emerge like visions before bounding off again. Northrop has a sixth sense for where the mundane and the uncanny pass too close for comfort—and no place more so than in the book's haunted centerpiece, a visceral rendering of a sixteenth-century Hungarian countess with certain insatiable appetites.
Gorgeous and strange, *Things Are Disappearing Here* is an imaginative tour-de-force.
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