Hurt Sonnet
I’m listening to Hurt, which Johnny Cash
now sings: the needle’s in his voice, a ghost
lends him its wings, and even with the clash
of everything that swings, I taste the host
of earth, its bitter taste that stings, the rash
that breaks the flesh with loss of love’s old things,
the never-ending aftermath of crash,
and, like an emblem of it all, the rings’
gold lying broken in the tarmac’s gash.
Because the no-one that you are must crack
in empire’s dirt that clings, time wields its lash
to seal your gaping’s hole with sightless black.
The tunings of those keys and strings unbinds
his voice to disappear in other minds.
About Justin Clemens
Justin Clemens is a Melbourne writer. Born in Hong Kong, he grew up on Malta and Cyprus before his family returned to Australia in the early 1980s. He has had a number of jobs, including as a kung fu instructor and a PA for a Melbourne jeweller. Among his books are the mock-epic poem The Mundiad and the visionary novella Black River, illustrated by Helen Johnson. He has written a lot about contemporary Australian art and poetry; his poetry, essays and reviews have appeared in The Australian, The Monthly, Meanjin, Wet Ink and other magazines. His new book of poetry, Villain, is out in June 2009 with Hunter Publishing. He teaches at the University of Melbourne.
