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Michael Dylan Welch

Flowers on the Roof of Hell

in this world
we walk on the roof of hell
gazing at flowers
—Issa (1763–1828)
Today Issa came over for dinner.
Nothing fancy, just Thai take-out from the place down the road.
He came on foot, carrying a satchel.
I welcomed him at the door, and he removed his sandals.
The low evening sun sparkled
through the tall glass of water I gave [...]