Tuesday, August 19, 2025

While Everything Else Was Falling Apart by Ada Limón

While Everything Else Was Falling Apart


In the Union Square subway station nearly fifteen

years ago now, the L train came clanking by

where someone had fat-Sharpied a black heart

on the yellow pillar you leaned on during a bleak day

(brittle and no notes from anyone you crushed upon).

Above ground, the spring sun was the saddest one

(doing work, but also none). What were you wearing?

Something hopeful to show the world you hoped?

A tall man was learning from a vendor how to pronounce

churro. High in the sticky clouds of time, he kept

repeating churro while eating a churro. How to say

this made you want to live? No hand to hold

still here it was: someone giving someone comfort

and someone memorizing hard how to ask for it again.




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