Published September 2, 2007
red knuckles blister and pop,
(white bone and whiplash)
longing to knead calluses in
fleshy whores, harvests of
wheat and cherries and lips.
but these last few weeks will grind
the hollows of skeletons into farmland,
breaking voices to fill acres of
the field's marrow, seeding
the greens we reap.
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141,249 Literary Works • 674,330 Reviews
phew! that's a big breath! The bolded part is where you lost me, but everything else, I really like, especially the first two lines. The only thing I wonder about is your capitalization choices?