Book Review: The Apocalyptic Mannequin

Horror poetry. It's an aspect of the genre that does not get enough attention, and I admit to being largely ignorant of it myself. Sure, everyone knows Poe. He is at least as famous for his poetry as for his prose; "The Raven" is perhaps his most popular work, and I studied "Annabel Lee" at least twice in school. Lovecraft also wrote poetry, although not nearly (in my opinion) as well as Poe.

Still, I'm ashamed to admit that I've been pretty oblivious to modern horror poetry, but then The Apocalyptic Mannequin by Stephanie M. Wytovich came along and changed all that. This collection has made me thirst for more, not just by this author, who has several more collections, but for horror poetry itself.

Wytovich hooked me from the first lines or her opening poem,

In the event of cigarettes lit by nuclear explosions,

I will stand naked in my burning...

Those two lines capture the raw beauty of all the poems to follow. These poems don't shy away from the morbid, the macabre and grotesque. They tell of apocalypses large and small in voices sometimes melancholy, often angry and defiant.

Aside from the opener, "Eat the Breath of the Apocalypse," another particular favorite of mine is "Call Me Haunted:"

But the poison in my veins grows belladonna

beneath my nails, nightshade between my ears...

I am both death shroud and newborn babe:

they call me haunted, and they're not wrong.

But they're really all amazing, breathtakingly delicious.

I recommend reading them in order, at least the first time. They're arranged so that one poem often flows thematically into the next. If you're like me, though, you'll likely be looking forward to revisiting this collection often in the future.

Also, check out that gorgeous cover.