Jamming
Ragged euphorbias
tall as a man,
weather this tight-fisted,
iron-poor land.
Pink floribundas
jockey for space,
poise and predation
adorn every face.
The heat and the wind
and the stiffening cold,
the drought and the drenching,
the dog growing old.
I go naked, I get high
beneath the perforated sky.
I’m the one who lit the match
and tossed it in the berry patch.
The blisters that callus and
toughen the skin,
the mercies and malice,
the sun angling in.
“A shamelessly irreverent, irresistible read."
— Thomas Detroit
"Toni's poetry ranges from perceptive and insightful to mischievous and whimsical, revealing her deep intuition of the human condition as well as her playfulness and humor. WET is an uncommon experience."
— Robert Dycus
“The work stuns! You are taken on a lovely ride through sheer insight and metaphor into the sacred space. Hard as nails and deeply embraced - Toni Stern sweeps you away – she IS the music."
— Candace Browne