Substance

Let every spammer, crook, and scammer
Purvey false images of glamor,
I still won’t trust them. To be sure,
No person’s perfect, godly, pure,
But honesty and truth still matter
Far more than sales from phony patter.
Snake oil sells, but truth’s the cure.

Talk is Cheap

As shadows coat the warehouse, pit bulls bark
Behind steel, padlocked, folding safety gates;
Spike-peaked rail fence; surveillance cams; barbed wire;
Chain-closed-off parking lot. One crazy spark
Could conflagrate into a block-long fire
Where every pair of eyes already hates.

Work here, compassion, in the cold and dark.

David D. Horowitz founded and manages Rose Alley Press, through which he has published eighteen titles, including his latest poetry collection, Slow Clouds over Rush Hour. His poems have appeared in many journals and anthologies, including Raven Chronicles, Better Than Starbucks, The Lyric, Coffee Poems, and Light. His essays regularly appear in Exterminating Angel. David frequently organizes and hosts poetry readings in the Seattle area, where he lives. Visit www.rosealleypress.com.