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
Reaching
I’m reaching out
I try harder and harder
an open arm
I guide my hand
She fades away from me
each step I take
I can see her faintly
every inch I move
her curves blow away
with the wind from under my breath
and from the heavens
I try to stop myself
from being under
but I can’t help it
I only want to try
try for a welcoming hug
a feel
a touch
But every time I near
she pulls away
further and further
into the darkness
of a corner unknown to me
I try to see her
I push myself
I dig in deep
I conquer any obstacle
tackle warriors
break boundaries
cross borders
all for her
But
as I get nearer
she fades away...
she becomes silent
pulls herself out of reach...
So...
I wait,
with my hand on my soul
folded arms
I wait
for her
to reach
me
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.10.30.17:30:00@NYC
Red Addiction #1 (False Version)
slicing up my skin
my vein
clenching my fist
pumping my arm
puncturing it
sliding it in
deeper
inject it
an orgasm
a delight
a daydream
an experience of no other
a highlighted color
a god-blessed Mary
my soul intertwines
with the tree trunks
and pathways of arteries
within my flesh
I release
let go
fall backwards
upon the mattress
explore it
feel it
pump no longer
and then
I pass away
at the sound of a doorbell
ringing
ringing
buzzing in my ear...
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.10.29.22:46:00@505MAHWAH
Roy Lichtenstein
I had a friend,
just the other day,
my friend Roy,
he died today
From little ones
to big ones
his dots always
had me
grabbed me
made me unstable
on solid ground
His retrospective
winding up the Guggenheim walls...
His thin, structural body,
standing tall,
another member,
of that Cedar bar,
I’m sure.
Roy,
why did you have to go?
my bible is empty?
my letter undelivered?
Roy,
where will you plot?
without a last dot?
Roy,
how come there is a fighter jet
a child with a toy
yet an image of
destruction?
Don’t go,
for I only knew you...
for so many years...
and more to come
more to dream of
dream with...
I had a friend,
just the other day,
my friend Roy,
he died today
In New York City
he passed away
Center of POP
for you and me
I’ll be there
will U2?
In the city
glorious lights
Mondrian’s Broadway
city delights
Roy,
tell me your daughter’s name,
before you go
send me a present
a lesson of the future,
before you go
A beg
a round-a-bout
come inside,
have a cup of coffee,
it’s all I can offer
to a god of pop
a god of pop.
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.09.30.12:45:00@505MAHWAH
Rain
it’s like that angel
one of heavenly desire
wet
dripping
it comes from above
and with all its honor and courage
it carries us inside
into the warmth
under the wings
we are guided
the rain pours
mixing the streams with rivers
rivers with oceans
a dance of water
a splash of wonder
he wonders
she sees a reflection
in the distance the sun
a rainbow color
together a one
the rain above
the water flows
cold and down
but the touch
the feel
that soothing rain
let it pour
let it come one
let it be
let it rain
rain
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.08.20.16:36:00@505Mahwah
Reach Out
reach out
grab it
squeeze it
hold it
reach out
milk it
suck it
firm it
reach out
love it
hate it
lick it
it makes you weak
it makes you love
it makes you hard
reach out
firm
tense
pull
see it
mouth down
tongue out
saliva glands
see it
reach it
touch it
reach out
compare it
draw it
dream it
reach out
underneath
undo
rotate
reach out
reach out
What is it?
© 1997 David Greg Harth
97.04.11.13:09:00@31USQWNYC