First Rifle of the Outback

As part of my dissertation I interviewed friends and acquaintances on objects of sentimental value to them. One of my interviewees, upon discussing a bullet shell from his time in Australia, was particularly difficult to get information out of. So I created an awkward poetic form to express this; a Villanelle crossed with a Haiku. A Vaiku if you will.

I shot the gun;
first rifle of the outback.
The dingo was done.

I picked up that one –
the brass shell on the dirt track.
I shot the gun.

Dingoes kill for fun.
We kill before they attack.
The dingo was done.

Under burning sun
the dingo bled, body slack.
I shot the gun.

Not a chance to run.
He had no time to react;
the dingo was done.

The day had been won.
The dingo’s lifeblood dried black.
I shot the gun,
the dingo was done.


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