Dingo (after Judith Wright) Edit 2

[vagabond]

Just a few changes. I'm stuck with 'piercing' for the moment - I want a word that suggests both the physical act and the quality of sound/light - any suggestions? I've trawled the thesaurus.


Edit 2


Lynchy worked one winter trapping dingoes for bounty. A lazy man, he couldn’t be bothered with the routine of setting, checking, and cleaning traps. He bought unwanted mongrel bitches from the Council Pound instead. When they came on heat he tethered them near the National Park boundaries, with fish hooks embedded in their vulvas and anchored to a branch. When a dingo mounted, his penis was hooked. He usually bled to death. Sometimes, one would leave shredded remnants and escape.




 
Stars pulse                  
light as sound, fine 
crystal-tapped notes.             

High screams rise, rise,
dwindle to a low moan.
Shadows fade to silence.              very concentrated line, makes me see the dingo in the night, slowly stop moving.

Before gods, before language,
wild dogs called from the void            i like those lines, somehow romantic and sad. great contrast to the way the hunter´s cruelty and arrogance is described in the introduction.
to the light, voicing their land, 
dark matter defying                           i am not sure if i can see in what way the dogs are described by dark matter. if i strain for a meaning i´d think of undiscovered nature being seen as something dark and dangerous by some humans. in the same way i am unsure about what "the light" is
the piercing stars.                                 piercing gets me to the opening prose section again.. makes me think of the hook.
but i can´t quite connect the piercing stars to humans, that set up those traps. 





Hello Mercedes!
i like the poem.. but probably fail to get the amount of meaning it has.

Edit 1
 

Lynchy worked one winter trapping dingoes for bounty. A lazy man, he couldn’t be bothered with traps. Dingoes were too smart for him. He bought unwanted mongrel bitches from the Council Pound. When they came on heat he tethered them near the National Park boundaries, with fish hooks embedded in their vulva and anchored to a branch. When a dingo mounted, his penis was hooked. He usually bled to death. Sometimes, one would leave shredded remnants, and escape.

 

 

A flock of stars pulses
light as sound, fine 
crystal-tapped notes.

 
A high scream rises, rises,
falls slowly to a low moan.
Shadows fade to silence.

 

Before gods, before language,
wild dogs called from the void
to the light, voicing their land, 
dark matter defying 
the piercing stars.

 

 
 
First Draft


 
Lynchy worked one winter trapping dingoes for the bounty on their scalps. A lazy man, he couldn’t be bothered with traps. Dingoes were too smart for him. He bought unwanted mongrel bitches from the Council Pound. When they came on heat he tethered them near the National Park boundaries, with fish hooks embedded in their vulva. When a dingo mounted one, his penis was hooked. He usually bled to death. Sometimes, one would leave shredded remnants, and escape.
 
 
Up here, where snowy peaks
range along the sky,
on full moon nights
a flock of stars pulses
light as sound, fine
crystal-tapped notes.
 
In response, from a ridge nearby
a high scream rises, rises,
falls slowly to a low moan,
fades to shadowy echoes,
silence. From another ridge
it sounds again; defiance,
then sorrow, then death.
 
Before gods, before language,
wild dogs called from the void
to the light, voicing the land,
dark matter defying
the piercing stars.
 
 
 

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I'm not sure why I wanted prose and verse together. Sort of like a quasi-haibun.

Should the prose piece be first, or after the verse, or not at all? Or just keep the prose and cut the verse?

I'd love to know whether you think it works.