Little Bastard

By Kristine Ong Muslim

He is born today
Just as the doctor predicted
With uncanny accuracy.

His limbs are frail, skin
Pinkish, delicate, and smooth
Like any newborn
With a full lifetime ahead of him.

He croons once in a while
When he is not asleep.
But I cannot afford to nurse him,
Give him his nourishment,
The little bastard
Has the face of a skull.

Bio:

Kristine Ong Muslim is twenty-three years old and has published works in 3 A.M. Magazine, Dark Moon Rising, The Dream Zone, Kota Press Poetry Journal, and the Dust Devil anthology. Some of her works will also be included in future issues of Nostalgia, Lost in the Dark, and Dark Angel Rising. Another version of her majors in Chemical Engineering during the daytime. She can be reached at blackroom8@yahoo.com.

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