Returned The Moon

I broke a wishbone

I threw a penny in the well

I wished upon a shooting star

I kept a rabbit’s foot in my pocket

I cherished the ladybug on my arm

I saved a four-leaf-clover in my wallet

I have a horseshoe above my entrance

I followed the color to the end of the rainbow

I lit up the sky

I counted the clouds

I wrote dozens of poems for you

I made a choice at the fork in the road

I named names

I asked for a refund

And I returned the moon

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.12.05.21.02.46@130BKLYNNYC

Ring

Church bells would ring

In morning with intentional mourning

A sapphire and diamond ring

Circled her cold dead finger now blue

Best friends would ring

Offering heartfelt condolences

Short breathed and beaten in the ring

Bringing home gold after gold

A furious fire made a ring

Around a sacrificial lamb

Her dreams of a planet’s ice ring

Eclipsed even an asteroid’s belt

The last month lets us ring

Yet another unwelcome year

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.12.05.05.34.00@130BklynNYC

Boxes (Version #2)

These boxes

They had such a grip on me

These boxes

They owned my life

These boxes

They controlled me

These boxes

They prevented me

These boxes

They were in the way

These boxes

For 

Love letters and

Greeting cards

Photographs

Drawings

and grandfather’s clothes

Boxes for

Packing Material and

Decorations

Keys, coins, postage stamps

and medications

Important papers

Tax documents

Receipts

Health records

and my living will

Boxes for

Discarded dreams

Lingering tasks

Hidden nightmares

and

Closures

These boxes

For

Misery

Moving

Memories

Momentos

Stifling

Stuffing

Selling

Shipping

Storage

Sorting

Boxes for

Undiscovered discoveries 

These boxes

For

Toys

and

Vinyl records

And wishbones, human teeth, and specimens

and

Sketchbooks

Pencils

Pens

Inks

Paint

Crayons

Saw blades

Hair

Ashes

Bones

Boxes for

Enemies

Friends

Foes

Lovers

Heroes

and Protagonists

These boxes

Boxes to the grave

Boxes of life

Cardboard boxes

Controlling boxes

Owning boxes

Box ownership

Down with the vessel

Down with the sea

No more boxes

For you

and

me

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.12.04.06.14.57@130BklynNYC

Everyone Wants My Money

Causes

Shelters

Activists

Charities

Institutions

Non-Profits

Associations

Communities

Organizations

Small groups

Large groups

Minorities

Majorities

Mosques

Churches

Synagogues

Film houses

Art spaces

Museums

Theatres

Centers

Politicians

Pundits

Environmentalists

Researchers

Scientists

Corporations

Hospitals

Schools

Stores

Food banks

Blood banks

My bank

The rich

The poor

The hungry

The unclothed

Panhandlers

Homeless

and

Children in need

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.12.02.13.33.00@345ParkNYC

Lucy’s Cafe

A tale of two

Two blonde bisexuals in bed with me

Back behind the kitchen

At Lucy’s Cafe

One preferred to be on top

One preferred to be on bottom

One preferred it missionary

One preferred it from behind

Both blonde bisexuals in bed with me

Enjoyed watching the other suck me

Both blonde bisexuals in bed with me

Enjoyed watching the other fuck me

Both blonde bisexuals in bed with me

Enjoyed coffee

and grilled cheese sandwiches

and French fries with a side of ketchup

Back behind the kitchen

At Lucy’s Cafe

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.12.01.24.01.03@130BklynNYC

Jumping Rocks

Pebbles

Grey ones

Blue ones

Black ones

Ruby Red

Chilmark Pond

Miami Beach

Commencement Bay

Cliffs of Moher

Dead Sea

Salt

Ebony spheres

Egg whites

Gold tones

Twigs

Driftwood

Sand between your toes

Skipping stones

Setting sun

;

Inverse the sky

Rain clouds envelope the memories

Closed my aging eyes

To never feel the pain again

To never wake up again

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.30.17.35.01@130BklynNYC

Sister Snakes

They were twins living together

No birds of a different feather

Secretly they would move under the river

Shed light to dawn bodies quiver

Lonesome island access gained

Bread and butter chained

Together they laughed and cried

Neither would crawl in shame to hide

Loved their liberty

Periscope to mastery

Chivalry cherished on the common sea

Shore to shore a double she

Black thigh high socks

Reveal the pen and paper art locks

They slithered beneath memories

Like reflecting diamond treasuries

Hid in dark corners away from flame of desire

Serpent stirring and sliding higher

Their imagination ignited creativity

Traveled the world for no lack of eternity

They were admired by many

Counted thoughts for your penny

Held accountable for no fault

In each quad chambers vault

Buried deep within the nest heap

Reflecting hearts not bowing to sheep

Identical and comparable

Torn sleeve is bearable

They constrict and construct

Under sheets tucked

Now and then they may adorn a skirt

Ten-fold pump station squirt

Secret songs sing and sung

Avoid their poisonous tongue

Sisters from mother

On your silent face smother

Snakes from father

Below belt no bother

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.30.06.44.46@130BklynNYC

Father’s Ghost

I wore a very dusty dark charcoal suit to my father’s funeral

The jacket fit

But the pants were too tight

But I managed to squeeze myself in

This was my old wedding suit from many years prior

It’s been hanging in the back of my closet since that memorable day

Unprotected from the elements

I’m glad only dust got to it

Thankfully, no signs of moths feasting on the suit

It was an overcast day in the last month of the year

A bit cold

A bit wet

A dampness dug into your bones

The sky had that distinct look that snow was inevitable

The sexton had previously dug the grave

All that was necessary was the service

And to lower the coffin into the earth

And perhaps shed a tear

Or two

The trees had dew drops at the ends of each leafless branch

The winter yellow grass was now dead

Mixed with last week’s slush

The wind was absent

Yet agreed to haunt all the mourners

Those that traveled from far away

And those that lived nearby

Father reminded me of nothing

An infant cried in the distance

Several eulogies were incomparable to the lifetime of facts

As we witnessed

A wooden box lost in the dirt

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.25.14.23.00@345ParkNYC

Centered Peak Parking Garage

In downtown

Located on Main Street

Is the Centered Peak Parking Garage

In front of the Garage sits Main Street

A street that cuts the town in half

A street that runs the length of downtown

Often the noises of a near-by freight train can be heard

The Susquehanna River runs along the backside of the Garage

At some locations the river is very narrow

At other locations the river is very wide

There are many stories to be told about this Garage

But the one that most townspeople know is about what happened on the upper level

On the upper level

There was a rotation of vehicles

However, the two that were most noticeably always present were

A 1970 Mustard-yellow Volvo 145 station wagon

And an orange Chevrolet Vega from 1974

An elevator brought people to the top of the 7-story Garage

The top shaft of the elevator was high to allow enough room for the elevator gears

In two opposite corners of the Garage were staircases

Parking spots were outlined in white paint

And blue paint for parking spots for persons with disabilities

Signs on posts indicated the rules and regulations of the Garage

On Saturday evenings during the hot summer nights

The top floor of the Garage was closed to vehicular traffic

Shortly after the sun went down the town would always have a fireworks display those evenings

People would gather with blankets and picnic baskets and friends

On the top level of the Garage

To relax, commune, eat, drink, and get lost in the fireworks display

The town referred to these evenings as Summer Saturday Soirées

The story about the upper level of this Garage

That most townspeople know about

Has nothing to do with the Summer Saturday Soirées

And nobody knows 

Whom the 

1970 Mustard-yellow Volvo 145 station wagon

And

The orange Chevrolet Vega from 1974

Belonged to

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.23.19.15.00@130BklynNYC

Sifting Through Sand

Never found a diamond beneath the swing set

Or sold out a show

Never been told I was beautiful without paying someone to say those words

Or tied a bowtie around my neck

Never painted a painting with a hand-made horse-hair brush

Or listened to Elvis on vinyl records

-

Sifting through sand

Sifting through sand

On a sad day in March

-

Never knew my grandfather to march in a Veteran’s Day parade

Or planted a lone tree in a meadow

Never listened to my daughter play flute in the school’s concert

Or had late night conversations with a bartender I didn’t know

Never placed flowers at an early grave on a cold rainy day

Or slept in past breakfast

-

Sifting through sand

Sifting through sand

On a sad day in March

-

Never took a bus North

Or fell in love with a friend

Never returned a book to the library

Or wore my favorite color socks

Never lied to get out of a date

Or messed around with someone’s calendar

-

Sifting through sand

Sifting through sand

On a sad day in March

-

Never baked a frosted chocolate cake

Or ate too fast

Never swallowed my pride

Or apologized without my fingers crossed 

Never hit a baseball out of the park

Or sat scared past midnight

-

Sifting through sand

Sifting through sand

On a sad day in March

-

Never woke up in March

Never forgot December

July never came like a revolving door

Sifting through sand

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.18.12.39.27@345ParkNYC

Ross’ Roth IRA

My name is Ross.

My appointment was at 9:00am

I got to my financial advisor’s office at 8:45am

I always like to be early

And you never know if the subways are running late or not

At 9:00am

My financial advisor invited me inside their office

I sat across from my financial advisor

A big mahogany desk created a boundary between us

A computer screen helped with the divide

It was obvious a financial division also existed between us

I placed all my paperwork on the desk

Spreadsheets, totals, investments, and statements

My financial advisor advised me on my finances

I signed some papers, initialed some paragraphs

At 9:30am

My financial advisor courteously ended the meeting naturally

And escorted me out of the room

We said our goodbyes

I thanked my financial advisor with much gratitude

And as I did

My financial advisor leaned into me

Grabbed my cock

And whispered in my ear

And I told my financial advisor,

“But I’m not Ross, my name is Kimberly”

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.18.09.54.00@345ParkNYC

Fist Full of 25s

Left Fist

Right Fist

Clenched Fist

First Fist

Second Fist

Third Fist

Strong Fist

Hard Fist

Closed Fist

Iron Fist

Shackled Fist

Bound Fist

Arrested Fist

Cuffed Fist

Free Fist

Empire Fist

Last Fist

Day Fist

Night Fist

Weak Fist

Old Fist

New Fist

Black Fist

White Fist

My Fist

Your Fist

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.18.08.08.00@345ParkNYC

4:44pm and 25 seconds

Just in time

The train pulled in

Cargo at the back

Passengers up front

Business, First Class, 

Table cloths covering tables

Plastic, Silverware, 

Dim down the lights

Dining in, dining out

Star gazing 

You can feel the grass between your fingers

They never told you what falling in true love is supposed to feel like

They never fed you gold when you were an infant

They never told you to fade away

Just in time

The train pulled away

Whisked you from the stationary place you’ve been staying in

Whisked you to a new station, a new town, a new life

Whisked you to a place uncommon to your reality

Mushrooms, Marshmallows, Mashed potatoes

They never told you what to expect at a vegan Thanksgiving

Couldn’t be marshmallows

Couldn’t be turkey

Turn off the oven

Get out of the kitchen

Keep looking on

The train is out of the station

The time is 4:44pm and 25 seconds

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.17.16.44.25@345ParkNYC

Atonement Truths (Part I)

Escaping never came easy

Hiding never came easy

What came easy to me

Was the difficult path taken

And so,

Came across a door’s hidden nails

Shifting wind for my ship’s sails

Stared out the 12th floor windows ajar

Escaped from mother’s milk bar

The Boxer’s face slammed into the door

Virgin loss was to a Dobbs Ferry whore

Went to a midnight disco with her in Berlin

With my fingers I caressed her skin

A static phone call followed up in Rome

In Madrid woke up out of bed and dragged a comb

Felt like two dozen years between

Her young wet body had the perfect sheen

A barbarian in my own vessel

Twisted thoughts I would wrestle

Held hostage by the greatest heroine to date

Last Supper painting I did create

As she raised her skirt just above the line of suggestion

I immediately raised my hand to ask a question

Greatest enemy left me alone

Blue eyes shut I have sewn

With deep sorrow and sympathy

Created a menstrual symphony

Chin saturated in dripping blood out and in

With prominent debauchery I better not sin

Vowed to confess to the priest

Looked in the mirror to find out I was deceased

From Ohio to Kansas I committed so much incest

Spiraled out of control deeply depressed

I said that I could talk to you forever

She said you better not be clever

Never drank myself to a stirring sleep

Drowned in self-made pornography knee deep

It was just yesterday I broke a plate

Smashed glass not art sealed my fate

Prepare the eulogy and cadaver lab

Turn my skewer meat and pick at my scab

Jars of cow fat sat on a white shelf

Walking down Ridge Street I cackled cowardly at myself

Seated on the wooden bench I’d shuck ears of corn

Hardcore Catholic refused to suck my cock was re-born

Staples in my shoulder held my collarbone

With my arm in a sling I made her melt and moan

Climbed the ladder to release the smoker’s dam

Couldn’t breathe so ran out wham bam thank you ma’am

Participated in London trafficking of sex

From Hackney to Helsinki avoided herpes simplex

Union Square loft fingering

A leftover stench is lingering

Thumb through my forever lexica

From Jocelyn to Jessica

Stole a vermilion Kenworth Aerodyne for a ride

Back door loving in the parking lot can no longer hide

Brunettes, blondes, more than one redhead

Brought them all to my backyard bed

Told the flight attendant I was unwell and about to faint

A Zimbabwe pastor was my hand-held saint

A long road led me to enjoy pissing

Strawberry admired my cock ring

Short changed and last night sticky

Got back home with my sore neck hickey

Golden Arches, American Express, not Coca-Cola

Ran my fingers to flirt with her Ebola

Swab the inside of my cheek

Labia often makes me talk devil speak

At gun point in the backseat of a Buick LeSabre cruising Bensonhurst

Inside his hot MILF wife, I did have my thick cock burst

Crashed Probe on 17th Street

Paul & Christine took me to Joshua Tree heat

Did I tell you I’ve been flown on Air Force One

Probably not because I’m a pathological liar and psychologist’s son

Above Tokyo lights she hid in fright

Dropped the towel to the floor for a sight

Uncommon silence quietly introduced

From Brooklyn to Detroit I seduced

Rubbed false matriarch toes

The truth nobody knows

Dancer’s delight in cat’s bed she bled

I would if I could she said

Eastern European university scream

Spread her legs in shower’s steam

My brother plays the sabar with such perfect grace

Echoing sounds stimulate my memory trace

Postage stamps, LEGO bricks, and teeth left me weak

Step behind the curtains inside Temple Bar’s speak

My tongue so eager to give you pleasure

Length and circumference equals such a great measure

If it’s The Beatles or The Rolling Stones

Can’t tell you, only share my collection of wishbones

Elysium was my neighbor for the longest duration

Jerusalem offered deceptive revelation

Stripped down on 42nd Street for cash

It was my greatest reveal and disgraceful crash

For the errors I’ve conducted on purpose, I offer no apology

Brain inflammation was what lead my sister to Neurology

Take the greatest leap from the sky

There is no time for a cordial goodbye

Captain of the high seas I love to go South

Between your legs I’ll place my mouth

Waiting at the bus stop with school yard crow

Orgasmic meditation let it drip and flow

Taking pictures with strangers in the photo booth

Dreams dictated by the loss of a tooth

Grabbed a yellow cab from Penn Station

Drove down 7th Ave in hopes of a Craigslist’s sensation

Private citizen of the United States

Over consumption of products and plenty of dates

Can’t count on ten fingers and ten toes

Such a distant memory, those backyard hoes

Devil-Eyed departed an early flight from New York

Met her beneath Table Mountain and dined with knife and fork

Forgery over looking Hudson River preggo orgy

Undercover secret is that I’m a member of the clergy

Took her blue convertible BMW from 57th street for a midnight joy ride

Drove north on the Palisades her hands high in the air alongside

Sunrise brought silent vanilla surgeon catching

Under damp wet sheets back scratching

Solanas shot loads of creamy candy

With respect to my dear Andy

An out of stock climbing joyful cowboy

Every passing lover was just a temporary decoy

Her art was often created with a stainless-steel palette knife

Found out too late she surrendered and took her own life

Sold souls to claim fame

At the cross burst into flame

Outside skin been so little bruised

Inside emotional state so self-abused

In Mount Corcovado’s shadow

Iced Skol in my hand, her face in my lap aglow 

Compass always pointed her to my infatuation

Can’t believe this long I’ve avoided self-immolation

Invitation to heaven got revoked

My hands around her neck choked

Running with words with nowhere to go

Wish my lockbox was not out of ammo

                        And so,

My heart was committing treason

When I fought off thoughts of suicide

For no good reason

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.15.14.51.25@130BklynNYC

4.2009-11.2025

Heart of Steel

Stolen unnamed streets

Pavement police on the beats

Sneaky bakery eats

Dirty foul cleats

She asked me to come inside

I put my head in her lap and cried

Years later I drowned in the pulling tide

Now kneeling for forgiveness at my mother’s bedside

Down the river a nugget of gold

These dreams I chase now unfold

A dozen canvasses sold

Left behind in the darkness and cold

Coming up for air during the flood

Empty my veins of my warm blood

A can of coke and the midnight horse stud

My bible falls to the floor with the deepest thud

Just ate last night’s meal

I’ve tried my best to heal

Make my greatest appeal

Lean in closer for the whispered reveal

Something is askew

So many times

I wished a rescue

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.15.10.04.05@130BklynNYC

On The Fence

On the fence

On a Thursday

In France

Wishing I could just dance

Sat with you yesterday

When it was Wednesday

Dreamed it was Friday

On the fence

On a Monday

In Jakarta

Sucking on sweets

Smarty pants treats

Tuesday’s horror

Incomparable to a full parking lot

On a hot day

Friday came

And Friday went

Dawn brought Saturday

And Jesus brought Sunday

On the fence

That bordered divided lands

On the fence

That put scratches all over my hands

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.13.11.47.00@345ParkNYC

Donut

What’s that you got there?

What are you hiding from me?

Is that a donut in your bag?

A frosted donut?

Chocolate dip?

Twist?

Jelly filled?

What’s that you got there?

What are you hiding from me?

Is that a donut in your bag?

Glazed?

Got sprinkles?

Pumpkin? Apple? 

Perhaps a Blue Corn donut?

Is that a donut in your pocket?

A donut in your bag?

A bagged donut?

A bagged donut in your pocket?

A pocketed donut in your pocket?

A bagged donut pocketed in your pocket?

Is that a donut?

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.12.15.59.00@345ParkNYC

Bright Lights

Bright lights

On top of that mountain

On the streetlamps

On helmets in a cave

Sky diving out of planes

Searching high

And searching low

Coal mining

Diamond hunting

Eyebrow piercing

Tongue gauging

Light flickering

Switching off

And switching on

Insects drawn near

Rotating and spinning

Feeling the dizzy thirst

In the office

All morning

Day and night

Brain dripping

Protein leaking

Forever crashing

Column crushing

Chord cutting

Melody playing

Sleight of handing

Cereal crunching

Flame and Fire

Spark heart’s desire

Paused for the DEI hire

West Coast buyer

Injected light

Swallowed light

Light at night

Night light

Late night

Better not bite

I’m headed out

Better not shout

Crying in the light

At first light

Morning came and gone

Forever a song

Bright lights

In my throat

Can’t see and can’t hear

Can’t even swallow a salty tear

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.11.10.34.00@345ParkNYC

Boxes

These boxes

They had such a grip on me

These boxes

They owned my life

These boxes

They controlled me

These boxes

They prevented me

These boxes

They were in the way

These boxes

For 

Love letters and

Greeting cards

Misery

Moving

and

Memories

Stuffing

Selling

Shipping

Storage

Sorting

and

Toys

and

Vinyl records

And wishbones, human teeth, and specimens

And

Sketchbooks

Pencils

Pens

Inks

Paint

Crayons

Saw blades

Hair

Ashes

Bones

These boxes

Boxes to the grave

Boxes of life

Cardboard boxes

Controlling boxes

Owning boxes

Box ownership

Down with the vessel

Down with the sea

No more boxes

For you

and

me

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.11.02.13.01.01@130BklynNYC

If

There have been a lot of ifs lately

If this, then that

If that, then this

If that and that, then this

If this and that, then this

If this and this, then that

If that and this, then that

If that and that, then that

If this and that, then that

If this and this, then this

If that and this, then this

© 2025 David Greg Harth

25.10.28.13.34.00@345ParkNYC