"Darren Hobson is back, and the 2025 reboot is failing."
Structured like a cinematic screenplay—complete with surreal opening credits, fourth-wall breaks, and bouncing end-credits—Just as stunning as my last poetry collection is a high-voltage, deeply personal descent into the absurdities of the mid-2020s. Moving seamlessly from a 1980s rock-and-roll youth to the cramped, sweaty transit loops of modern Turkey, Hobson strips away all artistic pretence to deliver a breathless, stream-of-consciousness survival guide for a hyper-digitised world.
In this collection, mundane working-class realitiescollide violently with gothic horror and pitch-black comedy. While media empires turn tragedy into daytime television and influencers chase empty metrics, a morgue assistant casually eats an avocado sandwich off a corpse, and characters bicker over Cadbury's creme eggs. Yet, beneath the masks of aging zombies, inner demons, and a direct commentary with an unseen director named "Herbert," lies a vulnerable, grounding core of enduring love and human connection.
Deploying dark humour and alternative rock armor against psychological decay, Hobson delivers a chest-honest look at writer's block, inflation, and isolation. No artificial gloss, no corporate filtering—just raw, spoken-word poetry from an independent voice that refuses to compromise.