Kensho in the Underground

Down here where
fluorescent lights flicker like
strobe-light dharma gates
and turnstiles spin the wheel of samsara

Graffiti sutras on crumbling walls
Buddha smiles from the shadows
between “FUCK THE SYSTEM”
and “WAKE UP SHEEPLE”

3 AM on the last train
homeless prophet mumbles
the heart sutra into his beard
while suits pretend not to see

In abandoned warehouses
squatter sanghas sit
on salvaged cushions
finding infinity in broken windows

The protest becomes a walking meditation
tear gas halos crown the awakened
riot shields reflect
the face you had before the state was born

Between beats at the underground rave
bass drum heartbeat of Avalokiteshvara
ecstatic dancers touch
the void beneath their feet

City pigeons bow
to cigarette butt mandalas
in gutter-temple pools
reflecting neon nirvana

The homeless woman laughs
at my spare change offering
“Everything’s already free”
she says, “Even…