Empty Bloom

Sometimes you need the tumor in turmeric.
There is something that cures us when we enter an altered state
Brought on by the moon,
Or a little vodka.

Tumor cells grow all the same.
They spread like fields of grain
Until you’ve moved in on the mountain cat’s hunting ground;
Then you need a laser or a scalpel
Because if you don’t leave home and hunt,
You will be hunted.

Maybe it is stupid to say the world is “One–
Big Tumor.”

To the word One, others will react–
Some stay, the mind at home.

If you react, the mind leaves home in search of news,
Hunting for experience,

And if you seek by turning on your screen,
you are caught in a maze of perfectly unfolding flowers
Where paper tigers hurt
Everyone’s feelings the same.