We were supposed to see the remake of Nosferato but…
…your Fitbit said you died at 6:30.
I called you at 7, 7:30, 8--
temper shifting from annoyed to hurt, we
never ghost each other. Well, until fate
stepped in and you had no choice, being dead.
So, the question is: will you be ghosting
me, for real? I hope not, you always said
you’d love an afterlife, wanted something
of you to exist beyond here and now.
I’ve been waiting for signs, but so far you
haven’t sent them. Maybe you don’t know how
yet? It’s only been, what? …a day or two…
Your brother gave me your fish, saying they
needed a new home. I hope that’s ok.
Good afternoon. (Or whatever hour happens to have found you.)
You may be curious about the recent literary activities of Juleigh Howard‑Hobson. If so, you have arrived at precisely the right moment. She has, most considerately, compiled a minor biography of herself. Let us proceed.
It seems prudent to begin with something decisive.
A dark cattle-filled poem of hers was just named a Tenebrous Press Brave New Weird Award Winner
There. We have your attention.
From this pastoral unease, we turn—quietly—to machinery. A robotic Fibonacci poem of hers has been selected for the Amazing Stories Best of 2025 anthology (and may be heard read aloud at the site).
Those who prefer their poetry less… spoken, may take comfort in knowing that a Rhysling - nominated poem, “Dolly Waits”, was transformed into a choral composition by legendary composer Ryan Main here: Dolly Waits (You Tube offers many videos of this piece if you search for it).The title suggests patience. You may linger. But we must continue.
Other literary events present themselves thus:
A most entertaining interview with NonBinary Review—surprisingly revealing.
A glimpse of her tenure as Elgin Award Chair for the Science Fiction Poetry Association.
A rather mean tempered poem read aloud at Qarrtsiluni.
And a generous multi‑poem sample from her latest book, courtesy of Alien Buddha Press.
Should this accumulation feel taxing, you may, instead, sample individual poems. They exist, conveniently, spread out across time and space—by which, of course, we mean the internet. A brief selection follows:
The Continuing Genetic Memories of Certain Strains of Gravity-Resistant Laying Hens Result in a Reluctance to Pip (Hatch) and a Further Resistance to Being Placed in Protective Packaging Prior to Dispatchment to the Colonies. (The length of the title is regrettable. The necessity of it is not.)
For those who prefer more tangible reading materials—such as books and magazines—Amazon provides a dedicated page. Most items are affordable. This, we feel, is reassuring.
At last, a few locations where the poet herself may be observed, and—if one is careful—even followed:
X (which used to be Twitter): @PoetForest
Bluesky: @juleigh.bsky.social
Instagram: black_candle_poet
And now, we must part ways.
Thank you for your attention. It has been jolly good fun.