HCE received a lot of high-quality submissions for The Brutal Issue – sadly, too many to fit inside the magazine! So we offered some of our shortlisted contributors the chance to be published on our website.
Keep an eye on our social media for more great writing like this, in the run up to the release of The Brutal Issue…
You too are my child.
I gave birth to you when I was born.
The labour and delivery, easy enough,
though like mothers everywhere
I craved pickles and my back ached.
I have watched you grow for years now
and am disappointed –
your corporate giants bleed us,
all of your parents.
You prescribe medicines that kill us,
You elect imbeciles for high office
and forgive them for their crimes.
You educate us at the price
You chip away at the happiness
you assure with your plutocratic
hands in our meagre pockets.
You assign us numbers, standardise
us into each other.
You spawn ideological fringe groups
that want the rest of us dead.
I still love and revere you, mother
that I am, but son, daughter,
you have grown monstrous
and disfigured. Not the baby I recall.
I cannot think of a better place
though some seem enticing –
Canada, Denmark maybe –
but so cold, so cold.
You need major surgery, my child,
your disease may be terminal.
I, your parent, have already died.
Did you ever love me?