Cyclical syllable: pretending to know

Futuristic know-know-it-all

Shh the baby is sleeping

quiet complaints 

like the mortgage payments due

soft like a hiss on the monitor

the name of a child

a moniker 

not mine but his

drooling heritage known only to a few

You break the bones

feeding bills tied in phones

fueling everything else that seem like home

Why does the dead skin roll

salted dead sea scrolls

clicking on iodine

you learn, clearly i find

after a shower

we're shuffling on repeat

living in that mortal coil online

fixing sheets and changing motor oil

and dying

Why can't I shirk this responsibility

like taking off a shirt

and showing tan lines for the world to see

marking you a farmer

a provider

white 

sun-dried simplified soliloquy 

my words are armor

she wakes up and i wouldn't dream of harming her

funny how this started out as a small smile

green and fresh as a snake charmer

brown sleeves

written in skin

history of serpents

your royal kin.