Rain Fire
Rain Fire
Falling rain
Heaven sent you
I thank the mother
For our land is dry
Fire ruled our land
The evening came and opened up
Swallowed up the land with your rain
Rain Fire
Let the hunt begin
Rain Fire
Let the creatures crawl out
Rain Fire
The fire is damp
Our great creator has released us
Your burning flesh no longer
Breeze came from mountains between two seas
River flowed beyond the nations
Seeds abandoned
Rain Fire
Let the hunt begin
Rain Fire
Let the creatures crawl out
Rain Fire
Great white one gone with cat
Silent blackness covered the landscape
Make image in head
Burned flames with words of great eagle feather
Buffalo entering
No more here
Rain Fire
Let the hunt begin
Rain Fire
Let the creatures crawl out
© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.08.29.12:19:10@1515NYC
reading / read
I am not here.
Reading Read
I am over here.
Reading Read
I haven’t found you
Read that story last night
Haven’t slept in days
Reading Read
I read your mind
I found that heart
Deep inside
Reading Read
Punching thirst
Thinking of a sprinkle
Won’t believe the dust
Reading Read
I’m not reading
Don’t like to read
But I’ll read you up
And forget the soul
Because Reading tonight
Is a book worth reading...
© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.06.25.16:39:24@1515NYC
Romantic Lovie
Oh Romeo
My big buddy
My fat cat
Sweet stinker
You run after fishy
You are a great thumper
Romping around
Running around
Laughing
Goofy
Oh Romeo
You black and white
You big eyed wonder
You silly goose!
Showing a path
A running bolt
A stalker
And birdie chirper
Lovie Dovie in bed
Humping thy breast
Tonight, and night
Tickle Tickle toe tickler
Oh Romeo
What?
Whadya say?
What?
You want to play with fishy??
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.12.22.01:39:49 @ 296NYC
Red
I can’t stop now
Ocean waves are breaking
Wild horses are breathtaking
I can only follow you
Into the sky of heaven
I can make a giant leap
But nothing without a holding hand
Inside and out
Today I think about you
And your red hue
Footsteps left in the sand
Someday a return passage
A thought in the salt wind
And a shared glance from yesterday
The sound of the ocean
Calms my heart
Puts me in that place
Deep down inside
In the deepness
Where blue becomes white
And red becomes autumn peach
And pink or blue can be all and warm
I can’t stop now
Someone told me
You were beautiful
But it wasn’t me
I live for today
And don’t want to hurt you tomorrow.
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.05.21.15:26:09 @ PH17 Outer Banks NC
Romance (Version #2)
When I smell Romance
I think of you
When I hear music from Angels
I think of you
When I see the moon
I think of you
When I hear Christmas Carols
I think of you
When I feel the warmth of the sun
I think of you
When I see the sunrise and sunset
I think of you
When the tick-tock-clock strikes Eleven O’clock
I think of you
When I’m in the month of April
I think of you
When I visit God
I think of you
When I look into the blue sky
I think of you
When I sleep at night
I think of you
Tightly wrapped up
In your blanket and white sheets
Soft
With baby brown eyes
And I wish
That I was next to you...
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.03.21.17:20:00 @ Miami,USA FLT#640
00.03.24.01:56:00 @ 296 NYC
00.03.29.01:59:00 @ 296 NYC
Whispers
Return The Start
Don’t kiss me
back
Don’t kiss me
because I kissed you first
Don’t kiss me
because I started too
Don’t kiss me
because you feel obligated too
Don’t kiss me
to finish up
Don’t kiss me
to satisfy me
Kiss me
because
YOU
want to kiss me
Because when you kiss me for any other reason
I feel like the lowest human being on earth
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.28.02:00:00 @ AVA
00.02.28.10:15:00 @ I95
Red Indian Moon
She moves like the silent moon
Over red land in the heart
She destroys the defenses
And makes the warriors weak and ache
She barrels down potions
While the night sky can only look on
I stand in her shadows wishing on sacred lands
And learn the art of sacrifice
Dozens bow to her beauty and silence
People gather and pray to the natural
She hears the beats of the drum
As I attempt to listen to the beats of her heart
She dances in the sun fields
And makes senseless of the innocent
She is still as a windless day
Making the current strong in the mighty river
Her eyes are life fire power
Strong and deadly to the look of desire
Her beauty is no comparison to mother nature
Or to the doves in the clouds
Her scent makes flowers unite
And men speechless with smiles
I know her well under the bright moon
And know the sudden dance of redness
All I can do is dance around in patterns of joy
And circle like an eagle hunter that is blind
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.01.31.16:59:17 @ New York City
00.02.24.03:15:20 @ New York City
Rabbits (Version #3)
They tickled me
Held me tightly
But she turned her back
And walked away
In the April morning
Now left alone
With nothing in my nude
Just the taste in my mouth
From last night’s smile
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.22.16:56:18 @ 1515 NYC
Red Stadium Light
Red stadium light
Penetrated you and I
She was silhouetted
All I can see was bright light
Tingle through my veins
Blood boiling
Warmth from the blast
She was dancing high above
Standing on the chairs
Facing forward towards the light
Grooving, Powerful, Feeling
Falling from airplanes
Catching yourself in the net of love
Reaching, Holding her
My hand on her waist
From behind
Red stadium light
It ignited us
Made my flames burn
Made my tears think
Made my feet tumble from underneath me
Red stadium light
Rained down upon me
Blue sky overnight
Warm air breathed in
She danced in front of me
Like fire in the wind
Like sails in the sea
Like dandelions in the field
Red stadium light
It bounced all around us
My head down in shame
Leaving with nothing
I saw the insides
I explored
I had my twist
I had my time
Now all I can do is walk away
Walk out
Before it’s too late
Before you go
Before the red light goes down
Before the sky turns to dawn
Now all I can do is walk towards you
Walk in
After you have given
After you came
After the red light goes down
After the stars go to sleep
But before I go
Or after I go
Know this
The red light is always on
The stadium lights are always on
Until a box is let loose
© 2000 David Greg Harth
00.02.08.13:09:33 @ 1515 NYC
Run
Come, we have to clean the house. The television set is dusty and filthy and the flies are sipping at the spoiled milk. The milk carton unfolded on the kitchen sink. I smacked one fly by the mirror in the bathroom. We have to clean all those toothpaste marks on the chrome sink and spout and the K-Y Jelly stains on my bed sheets.
No, John, he never made it through puberty. He still goes to his shrine at home and masturbates to the playboy magazines and gives himself sugar disease. He is sad. No, John, you cannot go to the nurse.
Why must I peel away my skin and show you my cleverness or sadness or holiness or calmness or secrets or desires or falsifications or horrors? Why should I open the door and be a fool and dig you a hole in my garden?
I’ve got a ton of chores to do but haven’t been paid my allowance. Swimming in the water pool and bands from Australia play on the outdoor radio. I’m in shades, but not myself today. See my reflection in my glasses and smell the hot dogs and pure beef burgers on the grill. We sat on the bench with the peeling and chipped red paint. The old rain-soaked wood bearing through and sticking to my legs. The brook aside trickles underground to where our gang spray painted on the walls of the tunnel of love. That dog used to bark at us all the time and one time I ran and ran and my head bled and gushed my hands covered in burnt blood dry and thick. But now I’m afloat, adrift in chlorine feeling the heat, but not myself. Not today, maybe tomorrow, lets play catch, I’ve heard that tune, but not that tone now forever now always.
The photographs are lovely. Pornography. Every word, or association. Yes, I belong to the club. Did you see that comedian? He wouldn’t sign. No religion? And no war?
He drove us to see Egg Bert in his old dark green Nova. She with her blond hair, I’ve got my blue eyes from her. I once locked the door and cried but Scooby Doo and my fruit roll-ups after school always soothed the sadness of Lalla and Jocelyn that never formed. She and I always sled together and had Dad build igloos for us. I never got to drive the Volvo or the orange Vega. I’ve seen the Volvo, now and again, it sounds like a television show. Perhaps that one that is all dusty and filthy.
One more, I turned around, tickled, I kicked his ass, I loved it from her. She can tickle me over and over and over again. We smiled, held, the mirror knew. Too bad I couldn’t fit or be or even draw or tell hot from cold I knew the yellow-eyed loved. Black and white view was the best, even climbed, never failed and always slept. I hope he dies in my arms and not yours, beast.
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.09.23.02:28:39 @ 296 New York City
99.09.29.24:17:35 @ 296 New York City
RABBITFUCK
I remember, one day, a few years back ...
While sitting on the toilet, peaking at my shit, as if they were clouds. I noticed the magnificent shape the shit was in. Like Disney characters Mickey & Minnie, ah, childhood. Believe it or not, I was reading Artforum on the potty that day. When talking on the phone and having a drag, my girlfriend calls. She tells me that she wants to tie my legs up to the kitchen chair and make me masturbate in front of her. I tell her she’s crazy but she comes over anyway and fucks me to sleep on my throne of porcelain. I wake up, she still on my shoulders, shit below me, she had pissed all over me. Madonna once said piss is a cleanser, today it got my fungus out of my ass and toes. So, I picked her up, way up high, and ate her out until her thigh was giving me a great big red television reception. She brought that tv in earlier. Just to watch porn, or maybe herself. My girlfriend is a porn star in daisy dukes, she shopped for those cut-off jeans on long ass lines just too entertain me and drive me crazy and insane. Which is why now I do nothing, not even walk or keep house; I just sit on my pot and give up my spouse for this daily shit I do. Too bad, I could have wed or even done med, but without a degree, I’m just going to continue to pee.
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.07.22.01:51:56 @ 296 NYC
Romance
I like the smell of your grape breath
Your New Jersey hairspray
I see your piglet ass
Tight red shirt and blonde hair
Like an ambitious tour and cherished moment
Silver shirt like the shot-gun used to wear
And I have hung
Your goods are baked just right
I’ll never forget handcuffing you
And recalling stories about what he did to you
In that limousine
I took a train ride and met them in Westchester
I took a train ride and met them in Long Island
I took a train ride and met them in Brooklyn
I took a ferry ride and met her in Fort Lee
I could have taken a ferry ride and met them in Staten Island
And I remember the joke my grandfather used to say
I collected the photographs
Didn’t take any yet
I have to phone her back
Wish I had a clock
And a few extra bucks
Thank you for the Oreo cookies
It was quite a dinner!
Where is she, I want to lay beside her
And whisper sweet poetry in her ear
Thank you for the strawberries
I’ll trace your inner thigh with my finger
Later tonight
They didn’t have a good selection in Denver
I paid in Seattle
Bermuda had free ones on the beach
Give me some Mahi-Mahi and bananas too
Wishing upon a star is silly
Hey, you, yes you -
Would you take a shower with me?
God I love showers.
Soapy wet, yum yum!
I wonder who it is
A reader? A volunteer? A hider?
It’s time to go
I’ll get the door
Look who it is
Dressed inappropriately tonight
Who hates that word?
I was once on a cruise ship and tossed plates to the sharks
Not to mention that Richard threw a beach chair over board
Did I say that? Did I make that up?
It’s kind of like the Ten Commandments yet I have a bible
I’m a witness are you?
Time to get romantic
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.06.15.01:51:33 @ 296 NYC
Red Beauty
Rolling thunder passes
Great land of the white one
Pass the magic corn of the earth
To the west of red beauty
Beneath glorious sky
To moon’s daughter
Bleeding hawk intertwines
Among the riching forest
Deep birch, sweet cedar and sturdy oak
Buffalo are roaming to the mighty rivers now
For your beauty I take
And eat your poison and swallow my fire of pride
Share my sacred pipe with your painted face
In these brave summers of thicketed visions
And tongues of stirring ashes
I’ve lost my eagle soaring guide
With pressed hands and clenched fists
My wounded heart pounds as the mountain speaks
With leaves of golden amber
And wild pure water flowing
Chanting of your beauty in passages
Come dance with me in the falling rain
Rain with me
Down promising trails of flames
Singing swallows can be heard
Behind my brothers and sisters
As dawn comes over great brown bear
Your beauty like nothing of this earth
Beating the dirt back to its core
Following the blooming flowers to your footprints
The beauty you shine with
Makes the growing sun and stars fight to reflect upon you
As I imagine my blue eyes upon your breast
The desert becomes hotter as you raise
The holy flames on the land
And take the rainy season to flood lands
Powerful sun beams beat off your beauty
Into the mighty night sky
Showing the overhead night birds a wonder sight
Your beauty shakes the tremendous strong earth
Quite beyond your structure of lust
I sink in the sand to be with you
As your beauty burns and dances like fire
In the minds of myself and my fathers before me
I honor you and give you earth gifts
Silent cuts on palms remind me
The delicate lines of your beauty eyes
Making the smokey signals of my desire
Your beauty quietly escapes the red land
Mounts on top of great blue blankets
And becomes one without me in the darkness
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.04.28.2:24:31@Earth
Restless Pig
Sun-dried tomato
Seltzer wearer
Geek lover
Take it in the rear
Don’t give a little
Pressed up against my face
Heated warrior
Virginia cauliflower
Pea pod
And Santa Monica
I Am America
© 1999 David Greg Harth
99.03.29.01:56:00 @ FLT#116
Re: Huummh!
Dead ants waterskiing
relatives that drink down
the backs of
young women
on used coffee grinds.
tasted black from the forms
out back
can’t do much
because that’s that
and it sure ain’t hell that miss ivy
league bitch
stroked
the freshmen team!
cause it ain’t miss town.
the busses running obscure hours
all the time
to get to and from
left of the right
around the back
lost on the back of a gnat
cum drenched winos in time.
for the mothers who had sons
lost at the war
ribbons tied to the bums
just one more
begging for sniff
even a scratch
big brick of USDA cheese
with its mother fucker of a latch.
yule logs burn
and so does disease
constitutions of tradition
the reciprocal of ease.
between my crotch
is someone’s snatch
i wish i had a match
to lite up miss america’s little ass!
hairy man
in the tub full of spam
its corporate CEOs
that don’t give me blows
wish i had a 9mm
shoot them all down
eat the pig’s feet
lick up the juices i could defeat
sucking cock at 3 a.m.
and assholes bleeding amen!
time to rape my fate
and break away from this track
find a big titted slut
and fuck her rack
with angst anxiety and touch of love
her nipples hard and driven
with hope from above
it’s a whaling sound
I made her scream
like the sheep i rammed
i fucked way back when
a child i was
horny as can be
now I’m only aged to ripeness
for firm titted women adjusted
i remember when
my veiny cock
it flowed of blood and cum
and a goat’s lasting jizz
i remember when
the professors fucked me
and when my thick one
was bulging
as I am today
for he and she and she and he
its all around the monopoly!!
my only friend is my cock
in my hand
fucking myself each night
with a cheap bottle
too late too fast too hard
fuck you!
each day passes with thoughts
of how to avoid being molested
by society.
long hard pull
drink orgasm smoke shit.
i will shave for you.
wanting to rub your cock against a poodle
dreams of all young men
the silver screen drives
ideals like Fat Albert
scantily clad young lovers
with M-16’s tattooed on their chests
escape from war crimes
by visiting the Met.
an icon’s wheels went
round and round - hit the ground
caught by a catcher in the raw
stuck on rye.
watch me now
catch me now
i am falling
i’m down.
blow jobs for the country
all around.
my ass rots and
my stomach stinks
perfumes and laxatives
defunk.
imagine no toilets or showers?
i desire a piece of plate glass on my face
while you shit on me.
defecation proclamation!
and with a tongue and cheek
I suck on the poison
the blood leaked from my asshole
only to find it
wrapped around my finger
for a mother to dine for, above
I hear the rhythm in the distance
and all they do is light up a smoke
the elder jerks off beneath his sheets
as the one in blue wears my hue
with donation baskets that
reek of filth and lies
and someone else’s bloody mess
i sit and wait to hear you say
halleluiah brother i covet
your fucking wife.
olive oil seeping down
the crack up a prostitute’s back
while families die in vain
over the tree.
the children
are drowning in a sea of
sweat pouring off of the
sacks and cracks of parents
who just
live with the it.
recalling the priest at the steps
begging me to blow him
suck his long cock
full of 7inches of semen
rock hard
uncut
recalling pounds of patty cake patty cake
bakers MY!
and that good tasting coffee cake
that I used to get in my lunch box
as a kid
Abused
Last gym pick
skinny mother
Wish I fucked her.
Recalling the great masturbator
Of the undercover floor - he died
or the Dali floor
Licked up
Fucked up
Chained up
And he asks to be dominated
Like an abortion pizza.
my head aches because
I can’t act out and let
you know how much
I fucking hate you and
your fat fucking face with
all that shit you spew on a
daily weekly monthly yearly
basis.
I look forward to the day the nail is
driven deep into your final place
of failure.
Instigation, guilt, mental tormentation
devised by your sick and twisted skull
fuck you
taking a bat to you blubbering body
would be like a rhapsody
as climactic as blowing a load
on the face of some school girl
for the first time.
Years later you still linger inside my head
each time I look in the mirror I
see you
hear you
smell you
feel you
loathe you
curse you
want to spit.
Sexual ambiguities stem from
your dominatrix brain.
you could have fucked me
beat me
kicked me
shit on me,
but you decided too mentally
tie my brain in a knot
to the bed posts of life
with your ever wrenching clinch on
all dreams and aspirations.
You emasculating bitch
I hope you rot in Hell!
and then lyrics
i heard them
about you and you and you and you
your wavy white ass in front of my face
a demolition beer
a beautiful ass
so tight it can be
all you do is stand in front of me
and blow out of your fuckin’ hole!
Ill sew you up
that’s what I’ll do!
Your lips on top
and between your thighs
Ill strap a dildo
I won’t let you inside
I remember your phone calls
And how you died tonight
I cut of your finger
as you begged for a locker
You had a slice of fish
And I, Play-Dough
Then the image burned
From TIME magazine
for you
a candle
in the wind...
BLOW UP!!!!
doll.
fucking your stinky
pussy with a cucumber
i bite the head off
of my own existence
with my finger up your
ass the shit still
remnant.
slapping cocks against your
chinny chin chin
you were my fortune
cookie!
school bells ring-aling
ring-aling
here I am another Pavlovian
ding-aling.
I need a drink.
I want my cigarettes.
I’m tired!
and then she came home
closed the door
put on the music
and dripped
hot wax all over my body
the the woman next to me
and the man next to her
heat all over
it was nice
nice
nice nice nice
nice
nice
nice
nice
FUCK THE NICE
i fucked her without
a hat
last night
came all over her face
stomach clit and thighs.
woke up half drunk
kicking myself in the ass
for my
irresponsible idiocies.
i scrubbed my cock
beet red
till i realized
it doesn’t fucking really
matter anyways because eventually
i’ll be dead.
but when I die
I will recall
that mother of the dead
will portray her daughter
the mothers will come from a far
to visit the graves of the dead
their daughters and sons
and husbands too
the widows come
sorry and sad
hungry for sex
and a big thick cock too
the mothers would come
to worship the dead
and there I lay
for them to mount
the mothers come
they straddle my dead thick cock
and with movements known to the dead
the mothers open their legs
they ride me like a stallion
amongst the dark graves
of the night
they fuck me till daylight
or when their daughters rise
from the graves I dug
each night i lay in
my coffin
scratching the walls
to freedom.
the felt lining was
once a place to ejaculate
fantasies over and over
and again and
again and
again.
and then i finally realized
that mothers do inspect the
laundry.
embarrassing loads of thick
dried cracking cum stain
my adolescence.
i want to cum mother
and you can’t stop me!
i no longer share the
bathroom with anyone
because now i have sprouts of
puberty popping in
my p.j.’s and Winnie-the-Pooh
even looks at me in a different light.
do you and dad fuck?
hard to imagine you bending over for anyone!
plus, there wasn’t anything he could
give any of us anyhow.
and even today
as I press my covered cock
against their wet covered pussies
as I dry fuck them
then I explode
with overflowing cum
into my boxers
above their wet cunt
should I be embarrassed?
or just continue on?
should i get breakfast?
or a lesson in control?
or maybe I should just be straight?
or gay?
or bisexual?
or just a mule in a castle and go home for
the night?
twiddling my thumbs!
oh like Dorothy
like a television show
sucking on honey
and a lasting impression
of big
cock-a-doodle-doos!
you have seen
behind my curtain.
the controls which control
my Oz.
Lions and Tigers and Bears
Oh my!
I am melting!
Can I cum in your
red slipper?
am I not a buffoon?
or just dr. seuss?
last mr. magoo?
do i taste thy cum?
or just wish you made me hum!
green eggs and ham
or a tub full of spam
it doesn’t matter to me
i just want to go on a
cumming spree.
Hee hee said the quaint
little chickadee
until i bent her over
and fucked her until
her eggs broke.
i’d like to crack an
egg on your skull and
lick the yoke until
it dries hard on your
chinny chin chin
she said
while i read your favorite
nursery rhymes to you
so i wont wet the bed.
plastic sheets drawn
tight with nurses
corners can make an
autoerotic day so
bright and so gay.
all sleep and no play
makes me a bad boy!
she said eloquent
I said, bitch, just kneel at my feet
she said eloquent
I said, babe, I’m just an elephant
she said don’t quit
I said, babe, I’m faithful 100%
she kneeled down
I bit at her frown
she made me cum
a sticky hot load
down her snob of a neck
she died in my arms
because i shot her in the head
love is nothing but
a sodomites fantasy
cum true.
the smell of your unwashed
ass
makes me harder than
a totem pole at
a pigmy bonfire.
roasted
nuts
and tea bags
sit well
upon your chin.
i want to smother you,
control you,
and make you the
object of my desire.
she responded with
a smile and said,
why don’t you just fuck me
like the pig that i am
for starters,
than we can move on
to the real fucking.
i want to fuck your
brain
from the inside out
and play handball with your
feelings, she replied.
oh goodie!
wake up dead man!
urine pouring down your back
beauty breaking at the spine
sunny days around here
garbage cans filled everywhere
beauty americans in the street
shooting killings out west beat
grateful sins on little tins
tiny children sucking their thumbs
photographs displayed
meat portrayed
buy it buy it
i am a consumer
deciding on your tombstone
what i wish were my birth
i go walking to the lines
of blurred sensations
and get my highs from
someone other than you.
licking your legs in
the afternoon,
and hearing you on the telephone crying
today
got me hard.
I wish I had a tomato
I’d let it rot outside
and then when it’s nice
and gooshy
and moldy
and wet
and awful smelly
I’d take it inside
to your nude chest
and drive a nail through it
the red rounded tomato
right upon your breast
roll me around in syrup
shave the hair off my nuts
and fuck me
in the ass with your
brush
bristles!
degrade me.
rape me.
hate me.
love me.
can i buy you a cup of me?
dear peanut butter dust,
I think I ran out of rust
Just the other day
How about we forget
about the fat man’s hand
on my crotch today.
that sounds lovely
because i feel like jumping
off the GWB!
there isn’t
anything to do
there isn’t
anything to say
just trying to make it
through one
more day.
i got to make it
through the day!
whatever?
feeling the lovely boy
feeling the lovely tape
I hardly knew you yesterday
but today i feel like a raped ape
ah the sweet smell of a
hairy shit
after a real long night
of heavy drinking.
I once saw a person
She barfed in the toilet
I once pulled a chain
Like from that toilet and chain
I once had an ankle with a ball
Like a chain and ball
I once had a friend
With big blue balls
Like elephants and rhinos
and super duper bouncing balls
I once saw a women
her tits bounced all over
I once had a woman
she between my balls
Like an elephant and rhino
AND THEN, THE FAT LADY HAD FINALLY SUNG!
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.01.01.01:00:00@Earth
98.12.31.00:00:00@Earth
Ruth, The Truth, Bob, and The 3-Fingered Man (Talk This, Talk That: Revisited)
It’s happened once again
thirty fives flirtn’
I don’t mind, I’m just goin’ with the jive
Flirting
Her red hair cascading down
And bright red lipstick
Spilling wine on her Asian white dress
Right on her breasts
I’m looking down
at her form
and her modeling hands
Her tight twad tits
as Hacked duck is being served
She drops her tickets
I bend down
Glancing at her legs
Upwards towards her pussy
or maybe just her number
She thinks I want a lay
When all she is, is a drunk
A dumb mother fucker
in an art world she shouldn’t be in
I ask her to model
Thinking about the cauliflower
She cringes at the words I mouth
Makes a face and two and three
I discover her insides
By slipping up her skirt
She admits to me
I leave with my Sam Adams
and say...
“You are a FUCKIN’ RACIST!!”
leaving just okay
Drinking along
Observing the owns
All I have to say
Is goodbye today
Give me the dough
Give me the crackers, the cheese, the grapes
Let’s have a black party
a black tie
I am an artist
I’m going to die
She wanted my cock
She wanted his
But she didn’t want Bobs
And that’s what bothered me that night
She wanted two youngin’s
To wrap her aged legs around
Pumping cocks
but all she got
was a bit of reality
as we were ‘insecure’
I put on my pleasure
and held my bible
remember her fish tails
walk out gleaming
of confusion, lust, and joy
and
I say fuck you
Go to hell
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.12.01.02:00:02@NYCNJ
Rabbits (Version #2)
Rabbits
Rabbits
Rabbits
Cubed in a matter of time
Lucky in my pocket
How about yours?
Bunny
Dancing
Heavy Duty rappers
Mother fuckers
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.09.14.24:59:00@NJ
Rugged Sexy Rebel
Shake of a bet
I met you at night
A drag you had
The look you gave me
We stared silently
As others looked on
Connected beneath your skirt
As you painted my portrait
Eyes locking & bending
Till Midnight
You watch me walk off
Mistakenly
My memory recalls
Sexy attitude
I’ll find an artist’s tool
And phone you later
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.06.30.08:39:00@NJ07430->NYC10036