Andrea Blythe: April 2021 Poet of the Month
Little Ghost
Fate is risky, all set-up
and thin chances.
Scales balance.
People die.
The universe
doesn’t invite returns.
But there you are,
your face blurry and bright,
material enough
to be moderately dangerous.
Smoking and bloody,
you rattle in creaky houses,
invite the possibility
of concurrence.
You expected a psychic event,
infestations and delusions,
or at least a little
misapprehension.
But everyone is quite
even tempered.
One can only go so far
to remember you, after all.
Source: King, Stephen, The Plant, Philtrum Press, pages 4-7.
The Zenith
I ghosted society and ended up
impersonating a dead dog.
I invited chatty cockroaches
and hectoring wasps.
It was a lesser doom, I assured you.
Have I not a right to be so
blithely veiled and deadened?
No one understands my gonzo
position. They doubt the merit.
But knowing me as you do,
you don’t ask why—only laugh
and send a bouquet of flowers.
Source: King, Stephen, The Plant, Philtrum Press, page 17-18.
Andrea Blythe bides her time waiting for the apocalypse by writing speculative poetry and fiction. She is the author of three poetry chapbooks, the most recent being Twelve: Poems Inspired by the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tale (Interstellar Flight Press, 2020). She cohosts the New Books in Poetry podcast and is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association. Find her online at andreablythe.com or on Twitter/Instagram @AndreaBlythe.