#, 1975 - 95 David Harth #, 1975 - 95 David Harth

0-72457 AUXILIARY

 

Nancy Rubins must be laughing

 

Her viewers explore and walk around her.

 

Looks of shock, disgust, and confusion are written on their faces.

 

Some get close, some do not.

 

Some talk, some do not.

 

Is it right? Or is it wrong? They argue.

 

Is it art? Or is it junk? They continue.

 

Open mouthed viewers look at Rubins’ detail.

 

Close up, or far away.

 

No viewers interfere with other viewers or Rubins.

 

They stand alone, or they stand with others.

 

They do not take up your room, or my room.

 

Some point, some tilt their heads, some read.

 

The guard wipes his sweat off.

 

Couples go on.

 

0-72457 Auxiliary.

 

Rubins’ old jet.

 

Rubins’ old crap.

 

Rubins’ space on the first floor of MOMA.

 

Rubin is in my room.

 

I am in Rubins’ room.

 

Her viewers are in her room.

 

The guard wipes his sweat off.

 

No one touches.

 

No one speaks aloud.

 

Discussions and arguments can be heard.

 

I am sure Rubins is laughing.

 

Rubins has no sweat, just bread.

 

The guard is hungry; he sweats.

 

Tourists, students, professionals, observers.

 

All of them are present, but none interfere.

 

Quietness.

 

Dirt in the metal do not make a sound.

 

I can hear the echo of flight.

 

No one here is flying.

 

Only the guard sweats.

 

We all stand to look.

 

I am sure we all wonder why we cannot sit.

 

Why can’t we touch?

 

Why can’t we talk aloud?

 

I am sure we obey the rules of the current society.

 

I am sure we question them.

 

Rubins’ art questions them.

 

The guard does not.

 

New viewers roll in.

 

New viewers follow the old viewers’ patterns.

 

The guard is still sweating.

 

I wish I could meet the “First Officer.”

 

Does anyone else fly?

 

 

 

 

Spring 1995

© David Greg Harth 1995

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S, 1975 - 95 David Harth S, 1975 - 95 David Harth

Shoe Thieves

Yes, it is a corporation with business personnel,

A cathedral with levels of hierarchy,

A stadium with players and teams.

Yes it is a government with laws,

A playground with rides,

A human with systems.

Yes it is a world of thieves and burglars who steal your ideas.

But what is most important in this shadowy world?

In this world of quietness, darkness, and expression.

It is not competition,

It is not black clothing,

It is not hair on our skulls bursting with ideas and concepts.

What it is, is shoes.

 

Shoes, some give a damn, some do not.

But all in all, one picked those for some special reason.

Looks, comfort, support or credibility.

It does not matter, shoes are important.

 

Shoes tell us where you have been, and where you are going.

They tell us about you, your style and personality.

Black or hot pink.

Leather or plastic.

Clear or opaque.

Laces, buttons, zippers, or buckles.

High heels or flats.

Long or short.

Platforms or glitter infested.

They help the other cannibals in this little world.

To see you and to see through you.

Our world of our own.

Our world of shoes.

 

© 1995 David Greg Harth

95.03.02.16:34:00@31USQWNYC

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S, 1975 - 95 David Harth S, 1975 - 95 David Harth

Scott

Tough Guy

5 foot, 8 inch Italian

Shot 8 times, stabbed too many

Slick hair

His right eye flickers

     from a gunshot wound

The scars point out

     entries and exits of bullets

Bulging veins cover his arms

He is off the Thorazine and doesn’t do the scuffle

He is on new medication,

     medication that could put 8 horses to sleep

His huge appetite consumes all the hospital food

He brushed his teeth until his gums bled

A rough life

Lost his father at a young age,

     supported his mother and sister,

     and grew up in a world of drugs

     and destroyed his life

A delivery man and a lumberjack,

a seller and a buyer

He cared and understood

He’s changing his life now,

I made him laugh,

and he helped me understand.

He helped me, and I helped him

A stranger, then a friend, and now a memory

He was Guy Scott

I called him Scott

He respects life now and has changed

He was Guy Scott, a friend, a gift from God.

 

 

 

 

© 1992 David Greg Harth

92.05.03.22:00:00@NewCityNY

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H, 1975 - 95 David Harth H, 1975 - 95 David Harth

How To Survive A Hospital Stay

First of all, do not eat the food

Ignore the doctors

For they are our friends,

but do not trust them.

Think about throwing the little crying children out of the window

And gaze into your surroundings

at the streets below and sky above

Play games, like name as many words that start with the letter “L.”

Lollipops

And laughing lions

Large lamps

or lightning linear lines

While in the bathroom, count the ceramic tiles

Drink all the apple juice

And fill the rubber gloves with water,

Yes now we have RGWB’S, no not a disease,

but a Rubber Glove Water Balloon.

When done with the first lesson,

now turn on the foreign TV station,

and make believe you enjoy the music

Then call another patient’s room and annoy them

After that, of course, move your bed up and down, until it breaks

Then press the button for the nurse,

When she comes, “Oh, sorry, I just wanted to know if it worked.”

Last but not least, sit by the window and look as the scene

The cops nailed another one

The truck delivered it’s bandaids

The Mercedes and Jags, and Lexuses and BMWs all roll in

The people flirting

and the bum drinking

Then you glance up, see your reflection in the glass

and then you realize and say, “Why God, why me?”

 

 

 

© 1992 David Greg Harth

92.05.02.22:00:00@NewCityNY

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F, 1975 - 95 David Harth F, 1975 - 95 David Harth

Fall

Fall means many things to me.

Outside there are lots of things to see.

The changing color of the beautiful leaves

Swaying in the sudden gentle breeze.

The squirrels are gathering their acorns

        near and far.

For they know winter is coming like a

        shooting star.

 

 

 

© 1985 David Greg Harth

85.10.28.00:00:00@SpringValleyNY

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