
Author Archives: Timothy P. Schilling
Dogs

Why faith doesn’t do what it should do
The lesser god of absence
One day we’ll know

You don’t want to be in Ubud
At this hour
on this street
if you’re looking for enlightenment.
Or does it indeed begin
with monkeys and chimes
and the gas of a million machines?
Mo’ better blues

A tray of offerings
Footsteps, balance and smoke.
Morning

Serenity now

Tarantula
We had a pact, I thought, we two.
You to your bed and I to mine.
The Munduk Accord.
Why then did you make me
slap you down, and crush you
with the butt of my shoe?
Why did you show your face
to my son, and drop us to the law
of the jungle?