I am glad that successive Worldcons have decided to make Best Poem a permanent category. Poetry is probably the oldest literary genre, and limiting the Hugo award to prose meant missing out. Speculative or fantastic poetry is difficult, because a work has to be both: good poetry and something beyond the mundane, whether science fiction, fantasy or myth. It’s quite a challenge for both readers and writers. Will the audience get what the author was aiming for within the limited space of the poem? Does a work need to be a poem to convey what the author wants? Recognizing when this is well done can only improve poetry’s standing within the community of people who care about the Hugos, and maybe it can even help build a larger cadre of practitioners, strengthening the form.
Here are my brief notes on this year’s finalists, in ascending order of preference.
“Landing: Seattle” by Brandon O’Brien was presented at and for the opening ceremony of the Seattle Worldcon in 2025. Occasional poetry is a tough nut to crack; even Robert Frost fell back on something he had previously written when the sun got in his eyes on that January day in 1961. I wouldn’t say occasional poetry shouldn’t exist — it is there to heighten the occasion, and it can perform that role most admirably. It seldom outlives the occasion for which it was composed, and “Landing: Seattle” gives an example of why.
“The Mourning Robot” by Angela Liu opens with an arresting couple of lines: “They came with machetes/asked if we knew the way to Wonderland.” Tell me more! But the poem veers off in a more imagist direction, giving readers more fragments, a “they” and a “we” with little to attach them to, charged words and a final turn. I suppose it’s meant to be a mood, but it never came together enough for me. This poem illustrates some of the things that make speculative poetry so difficult. If it’s short, it runs the risk that readers don’t have enough to follow the author’s ideas and intentions. If it’s long, it can make readers wonder why it isn’t a prose story instead. Maybe there are references that I missed, that would have made “The Mourning Robot” cohere more. Or maybe Liu is just aiming for a feeling, a vibe, a combination of machine and mourning, with menace from that first line. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell, and so we went past each other, the poet and I.









