Duck Hunter

[indar]

Duck Hunter

 

Camouflaged, rubber booted,

weeds tucked in his hat,

Frank headed from the SUV to the duck blind. 

 

A hawk swooped.

 

An impulsive shot, to his surprise

brought the bird down.

 

Where it hit the ground, flapping in the underbrush,

it faced him.

Frank shot again

 

took the carcass to a taxidermist

had it stuffed,

wings spread, screaming beak, eyes defiant,

just as it was in life--

 

the thing itself, a tribute to its valor

displayed on a special shelf built for the purpose.

[Sharon Leigh]

Hi indar. I like this, though the subject of taxidermy could possibly come off tired, here it doesn't. The fact that the hunter meant to bag a duck and not a raptor, first off. Sad and powerful statement. The mounting and displaying in an attack pose is additionally sad, saying so much about human nature and what we choose to show/portray as truth. To impress. Valor indeed

I feel like this gets said ad nauseum about poems, but, I honestly feel this might be stronger in present tense. Also, for me, using personal pronoun "Frank" just kind of distracted and took me away from involvement, started wondering who is Frank? And why I should care etc. Might be smoother without? Just mho, of course, take or toss.

Much enjoyed!

Best,
Sharon

[Tracy Mitchell]

Indar -- 

The overwhelming majority of duck hunters would agree with me that Frank is one serious sleeze-dog.  He illegally takes a hawk on a whim, happens to know a taxidermist who is willing to defy/ignore federal law to mount it, and then illegally displays it.  Geez, even I don't know that low-life of a [so-called] hunter or taxidermist.  Frank is the perfect name for the prick; I imagine the taxidermist to be a Bennie or Roy.  

If the special shelf were in the back of his garage or shop, then we would at least know that he had some consciousness of guilt.  I bet he's got a room not easily accessible to 'guests'.

Just a few comments on the text –

S.1 L.3 – ‘headed’ maybe be replaceable with a word more descriptive of Frank - plunged, traipsed, sauntered, strolled, hiked, wandered- each says more.

S.4 L.1 - Where it hit the ground. . . .

S.5 L.3 & 4 - consider reversing the lines, it might give more strength to “eyes defiant”

S.6 L.1 - consider deleting a tribute to its valor - Frank certainly isn’t honoring the bird, and I think the black market taxidermist isn’t either.  The only tribute would have been to not shoot the bird in the first place.  

Those are quibbles.  The big picture includes a great paced poem in which you modulate the drama very well.  You present a villain-certain in understated brush strokes.  The language is genuine and brisk, and narrative is engaging.

Use or lose, as always.

I enjoyed the poem, enjoyed hating Frank. 

T

[Colm Roe]

I think the last S needs an edit. It's like you want to say more, but don't want to fall into the 'killer (pardon the pun) ending'?
The idea of hunting anything (unless you are obliged to hunt to survive) upsets me. 
'Faced him', 'valour' and 'defiant' are used...but I think the direction should be on Frank, and his sad ilk.
I enjoyed the read, and laughed at the title...a big brave hunter; 'hunting' ducks...they must be dangerous over your side of the pond 

 

[Tim J Brennan]

Duck Hunter

 

Camouflaged, rubber booted,

weeds tucked in his hat,

Frank headed from the SUV to the duck blind. 

 

A hawk swooped.

 

An impulsive shot, to his surprise

brought the bird down.

 

Where it hit the ground, flapping in the underbrush,

it faces him.

Frank shoots again

 

took the carcass to a taxidermist

had it stuffed,

wings spread, screaming beak, eyes defiant,

just as it was in life--

 

the thing itself, a tribute to its valor

displayed on a special shelf built for the purpose.

Been looking at this for a bit now.  

S3 & S4 seem to be one thought but only here: An impulsive shot, to his surprise / brought the bird down / where it hit the ground, flapping in the underbrush. It faced him  / SO Frank shot again AND took..."  

Or something like that  

I think what I'm saying is that some work needs to be done in formatting & punctuation to "clearly" get the narrative in sequence.  I like what I'm reading but I'm working way too hard and sorting it all out.    

[indar]

Thank you all for the read and comments. Sharon, running a present tense version through my head I can hear already how much better it will sound. I'll post it that way later. I chose to use a name to avoid confusion with the hawk. But I do identify the hawk as "it" so maybe OK.

Tracy, I know there are many ways to view hunting, some of my best friends hunt. They make a compelling case for the life an animal leads in the wild compared to the life animals lead on the feed lot or confined in upsetting ways. But if that attitude were to gain popularity there would be circular firing squads all over creation.

I tried out your suggestion for the way Frank ambulated toward the duck blind. I thought of identifying his vehicle as a Hummer but maybe overkill. He was stalking prey. Someone once made the comment to me that gentlemen drive hummers because they need a more manly way to express themselves than hurling their oyster forks to the floor at the club--that's Frank.

It probably didn't rise to frank's consciousness that the eye contact with the hawk represented a test of wills in which Frank prevailed. And that is why he projected the valor, defiance on a worthy opponent.

That, Colm is why the ending is the way it is---gosh I thought it WAS a killer

[Tracy Mitchell]

Good thoughts, Indar.  I took Frank to be a singular asshole rather than symbol of all hunters.  And I took Frank's spur of the moment shot at the hawk to have simply resulted from the idiot seeing what he concluded to be an easy target.  An SUV or high-suspension pick up is often necessary to access the more remote waterfowl areas, so I didn't take it as a pejorative with respect to Frank.  He is no doubt dressed entirely from the LL Bean catalog.  So there would be that.  He certainly does seem like a guy totally oblivious to the ethics prevalent among hunters.  Hard to believe he's hunting alone.  Huh.  I rambling again.    

[Marc Gilbert]

Indar,

Can't tell you how much I like and how effective the words of the final two stanzas are. The juxtaposition of the extraordinary subject and the ordinary shelf is beyond powerful.

A minor suggestion would be a break in S4 after "ground". The length of the line gives it disproportionate visual weight.

Strong poem.

Marc 

[indar]

Duck Hunter 

Camouflaged, rubber booted,
weeds tucked in his hat,
Frank heads from the SUV to the duck blind.  

A hawk swoops. 

An impulsive shot, to his surprise
brings the bird down. 
Where it hits the ground,
flapping in the underbrush,
it faces him.

so Frank shoots again 
and takes the carcass to a taxidermist,
has it stuffed
just as it was in life:
wings spread, screaming beak, eyes defiant. 

The thing itself, a tribute to its valor
displayed on a special shelf
Frank will have built for the purpose.

 

[indar]

Here is a rewrite that takes all (or most) of the suggestions into consideration---don't know what to think of it yet.

Tim thank you for the read and your suggestions--our posts crossed earlier. I have paid attention to what you suggested.

Yeah Tracy,
"And I took Frank's spur of the moment shot at the hawk to have simply resulted from the idiot seeing what he concluded to be an easy target".

and, you know, he had this shotgun in his hand.