Publisher: Interstellar Flight Press
Date Published: Forthcoming in 2024
A woman troubled by her place in the dark manuscript of her life rediscovers her strength and power. Poison, plants, bloodshed, and the supernatural collide as Blythe weaves a haunting series of horror poems not for the faint of heart. A virtuoso of found poetry and the erasure poem, Blythe reworks the words of a horror legend in an entirely new way.
Cover Art: Andrea Blythe
Sample Poems
- “Little Ghost” and “The Zenith,” Yes, Poetry
- “Belatedly, The Refusal,” Glass: A Journal of Poetry
- “A Little Background Information,” Cotton Xenomorph
- “Morning, Wrapped in Maple and Pine,” “A Fallen Heaven,” “A Wake,” “I Have Tried to Explain,” “A Last Missive,” and “Student of More,” Quail Bell
Advanced Praise
“In a collection of otherworldly poems, Andrea Blythe deftly constructs verses that function like surreal puzzle boxes, inviting readers to unravel the complexities of identity and self-discovery within the context of a vast, unexplainable, and often violent world. By grounding her poems in the organic and the natural, Blythe walks a dazzling line somewhere between bloody corporeality and cosmic wonder. An exhilarating and provocative work.”
— Claire C. Holland, author of I Am Not Your Final Girl
“Andrea Blythe is one of the most unique and gifted fantasy-horror authors out there today, and her latest book, Necessary Poisons, is proof why she should be at the top of your reading list. With gorgeous and haunting language that feels as lush as the poisonous plants that inspire it, this collection is a heartfelt ode to Stephen King, and a truly breathtaking accomplishment that’s not to be missed.”
— Gwendolyn Kiste, Lambda Literary and Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Reluctant Immortals and The Rust Maidens
“Andrea Blythe’s found poetry is horror and resurrection and soil, jackals and poison plants and dead things transformed. She actively erases story in search of narrative: her collection is method as well as madness, and the two come together as a literary chrysalis, where the act of adaptation results in mutations that slink and shriek over the page.”
— Dr. Octavia Cade, author of Chemical Letters and Mary Shelley Makes a Monster