If I walk the long day
out and into evening, perhaps
I shall find that secret place
where we are hiding- no? Well,
you fed me some warm drinks
and conversation; late night talk after
which, could anything that contributed
help but be over-all and genuine?
I thank you for the invitation,
writing from my hotel room. I can
almost see an island waiting – my
requests float back emptily. Nothing
one can say compensates; feelings gone
tell of time and patience: human
again, it is never enough just to maintain.
This happens regularly, love.
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Quotes from some Reviews: “The most unique set of poems I have ever read.” “Having read Dark Earth by Dean Baker my first reaction is WOW. This was written for me.”
“Dean is a true comic poet as well, full of those sly interventions and evasions, slights of self, recriminations and elisions… He’s the kind of poet that gets under your skin and stays there like a song in some dark noir alley that sings to you of love and death suckled on good old home-grown truth. Through his exceptional and distinctive poems and prose poems you will be fully engaged…”
“The key to Dean’s art is its unique subtle narration of certain moments that are never revealed in the full natural disclosure of facts, but are rather revealed more subtly in the voicing of certain affective relations between memory and mind in this ongoing inquisition with the sordidness of our unlived lives.”