(poetry diary 177- February 13, 2017) I posted “The Conditional” here before, under the heading Poem to read to one’s lover when feeling despondent about the state of the universe. This was before the election, though, and I thought it would be good to read again now in light of the feeling illustrated by the popular video above.

The Conditional – Ada Limón

Say tomorrow doesn’t come.
Say the moon becomes an icy pit.
Say the sweet-gum tree is petrified.
Say the sun’s a foul black tire fire.

Read rest of poem