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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Pipe Dreams” Down in the Dirt, v177 (the November 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Late Frost the Down in the Dirt Sept.-Dec. 2020 issues collection book		get the 420 page Sept.-Dec. 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Robot Mom

Anindita Sarkar

No girly time
but a relic of disenfranchised relationship.
She weaves the worn-out pillowcase
with my butchered dreams,
ignites the chipped tile fireplace
with paper-cuts from my Origamis
she wouldn’t let my art to exist
like my ballerinas grimed in dust.
I had mistaken a manipulated voice
for my mom.
Series of unarmoured bickering
unnecessary work of everyday parenting
circling like conjured apparition
with a body reeking of ambition
never appreciating
my indecipherable paintings
despite gazing at it thrice.
When she held the arrant cat in her arms
it wasn’t about love,
‘die’ a generous word
she would confer
misreading the product of my obduracy
and during the times
 I whispered about my female lover.
I wonder if I am even alive.

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