Poem: Hakka by Siobhan Hodge


CorkwoodI catch your name –

an outsider
snipping edges

my tongue splits,
a cracked plate
tidily pushed aside.

Your words are peeled
like tangerines,
traffic cone nouns
lead me to eat.

You roll words like
apples across the grass
to me, slow stoop
for each token:
Finally, I bite.

Claiming sweetbitter
taste, fingers sink
into fermented pores,
to mark each touch
beyond recognition.

(from Speaking Geographies — a collaborative project by Siobhan Hodge and Rosalind McFarlane)

Siobhan Hodge profile photoSiobhan Hodge is a doctoral candidate at the University of Western Australia, studying Sappho’s poetry and its translation. She divides her time between Australia, Hong Kong and the UK. She recently published a chapbook, Picking Up the Pieces, and has had poetry published in several places, including Cordite and Peril.

 

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