Debbie Lim’s “To the Fugu” takes the carnal intimacy of eating to its perilous limit with the seduction of the world’s most lethal delicacy. The poem is in the comic, erudite and slightly unnerving spirit of Donne’s “The Flea,” and here again the act of consumption is associated with the pursuit of love. In “To the Fugu,” however, the risk of failure is life-and-death. Seduction of the coy fish, then, must be undertaken by a master of the craft, and Lim’s speaker is a culinary Casanova, basking in the precariousness of the chase, knowing that one false move will likely end up in fast-moving paralysis. Bon Appétit.
Debbie Lim received the 2022 Bruce Dawe National Poetry Prize. She was shortlisted for the 2022 Peter Porter Poetry Prize. Her chapbook is Beastly Eye (Vagabond Press) and a full-length collection will be published by Cordite Books in 2025. She was born in Sydney, where she lives on Darramuragal land.
To the Fugu
I cannot see her tonight
I have to give her up
So I will eat fugu
– Buson
To kiss you is to mimic your own stunned face:
small-mouthed, teeth slightly bared.
But you refuse to flirt, giving nothing beyond
that slope-headed stare: not even girlish aspirations.
And yet, such potential within that provincial body!
This could bloom into something beautiful:
a chrysanthemum or crane.
Eight chances I will give you, for what’s love
without uncertainty, those few tingling doubts –
a growing numbness in the throat.
Fugu: Japanese for pufferfish (literally translating to ‘river pig’), which has neurotoxic properties.
Also refers to the notorious dish made from the animal which, if not prepared properly, can cause death by asphyxiation.
"To the Fugu" originally appeared in Cordite Poetry Review 50: JACKPOT!
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