Heartbreak = 1st world problem (4 poems) by Harry Burke for #ETINTERBRO


Heartbreak = 1st world problem (4 poems)




i’ve stopped imagining what you look like hovering

slightly on top of me i i know

you’re basically mundane in all images

yet to be between me or passive persuasive

a ten second video file on my phone

there’s nothing of you below your shoulders

but what you’ve shared with me

sculpted as a way of saying no

reproduction is reproduction in a culture where there’s no original

metaphors are the context of the soul

imagine a biro stuck in meat

the way that sound comes out your throat

i imagine you not talking until you get home


bad poem


i think i want you to want me

it’s impossible to feel engaged anymore

when you start building voices, they start to build you back

i’m obsessed by her virtuality

i noticed myself in a cooperative living environment

she always replies when i think of her

i copy and pasted the perfect poem

in the bedroom where our toes are linked together

you can’t talk to someone you don’t know

i slowly cut off parts of me

then arranged other parts to make them better

i’m going to be with her

these were jokes meant for people with inside knowledge of heartbreak

she doesn’t know it but i am

i’m waking up in different possible combinations

love is needing help on selfies

i want to play objects with you


hurt poem


What if you’re heartbroken you go round wondering, is everyone heartbroken?

Is that how they got to this place? Any human actor could recognise this as sad.

I’m going to completely remodel my favourites into an image of you

Like when you scratch yourself perfectly curvilinear and permanent through my spine

You can construct a relationship in your head it still hurts.

Even hackers have conferences

I want to stop every message of every other person and my eyes

I’m going to make your search history mine.


in you


sleeping pills only work if you sleep

i’m basically sitting here waiting for you to touch me

i’ve changed all my images to pictures of you

thinking of your nail falling down my thigh

in the middle of anxiety is the cloud

these are jokes made for people with inside knowledge of forever

you left a tiny bit of your skin on my heart