Just Want


Some cream in my coffee whenever
I might wake from
sleep of which I cannot think

No fucked-up minds inquiring
before death and sickness fail
to step aside for the new beginning

If you notice that I have
nothing to say to you, you know
it’s because you never listen

But interrupt in your only constancy
these things evident
of whatever truth you contend against

©Dean Baker

-from Shadow Boxing The Infinite   – on sale

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deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com 

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The Bullies Trade Places

Are you ready for China? They’re coming
for you – chopstick your dog, feed
you briquettes, dominate worldviews,
become an obstacle in the path of real
and true news, unite everyone against them

until the fools complain about prejudice
regarding Mongol hordes and relentless
pressure to be multiculturally balanced
while the oppressed everywhere join in
perversely to share their non-views and gain

a unique perspective on false imprisonment
for the powerless forced to observe
the hijacking of morality and truth once more
unless bribed with cash and special designations
allowing them to become ambassadors of

insight and special determination, newly
wise to the truths objected to again as though
you were mere children caught in sandbox
runes making false landscapes of hill and dale
where they bury themselves from the past taking place

©Dean Baker

©All Rights Reserved

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© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

Waiting For The Apocalypse


There must be flood warnings somewhere since it’s rolling thunder, a deluge of rain and the so-called patio is crowded with one cat taking refuge under the overhang, the puppy’s caged under a blanket with air flowing low from the wind-driven water, and I’m sitting back enjoying fresh coffee and god-forbid-tobacco.

I’m looking upward across the sky from one reach of my head to another like some broken tick-tock metronome, or Stevie Wonder shaking his head in disbelief that this is no longer Motown: each of us equally resembling a crouched Praying Mantis communicating with distant stars, though more likely nurturing a disagreeable thrum of methane, non-bespoke.

Wishing for the apocalypse or something equally fractious against the boom and gloom since the storm could not possibly be its own raison d’être.

Underneath me moles are in alarum, deer are tramping down their insecurities, while foxes and the occasional possum stretch across the fields a few hundred yards away in a refreshing optimism that perhaps the chattering classes – God, myth, that bitch, that dick, fuckme, etc. – are about to meet the great Shut The Fuck Up.

No such luck however as rain subsides, the tap’s turned off; the cat TroubleMaker slides across the lawn chair seat to groom and stare, the coffee’s running out in opposition to the rain, clouds of cigarette smoke lift us both away, and I, the great Tick Tock, shuffle my head backwards and sideways, a foregone retard with no thoughts or solemnity called prayers for what may come or not these days.

©Dean Baker

©All Rights Reserved

© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

both paperbacks available now –

my books on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

Shadow Boxing The Infinite will be released in e-book on March 21

This book may be pre-ordered here: Pre-order Shadow Boxing The Infinite e-book

Phantoms Of The Northern Forests will be released in e-book on April 4

This book may be pre-ordered here: Pre-order Phantoms Of The Northern Forests e-book