three poems

by Ron Arbuckle

PEOPLE-WATCHING

 

The people-watching-people are people-watching

They’re people-watching people

Itching, I leap — I am people

People-like-me are being people-watched

By the people watching me 

As they people-watch the people 

From their people-watching patch

In a patch made for people-watching

People-watching people watch

People, watching people like me

People like me, who need to be watched 

By the people-watching people-watchers

People-watchers, like witches

Watching people, pinwheeling gothic epitaphs 

In their genethliac watching we wait

Waiting for people to watch

To watch people like me

Is it pathological to cower

Like I’m being watched telepathically?

Like they wait- like they wait to kill pathogens like me?

Why would people-watching people

People-watch a wight like me?

Possibly this gnawing, howling weight 

Weighing down on me, as the people-watching-people

Lap past people being people-watched like people like me

Waiting for chinwags and whinging 

Against a people-watched people 

By the whippet-like people-watchers 

Heaping two pence against cephalon-like pigs

They whip upon these pigs, 

Pig-wights whipped unethically

The people-watchers, watching people

Who feel like whales being lapped

While lapping the planet, feeling genetically elephantine

A planet where poaching people feels healing

For the people-watching-people

People-watching people like me

I can pitch cheap peptic like a meek tome

For people-watched people to etch change

Change in weight, change in plane

Plain people watched, while waiting on change

Itching to etch out belt-notches like plinths 

Killed epoch after epoch, pinching at their plate 

“Latch to planche in the loch, ok?”

Till the plotlines of weight leeches in heaps

Their clothes wilting pelts kowtowing 

Watched like mulch, eaten by gaunt twig thin sheep

Change is elliptical for people-watched people like me 

As the people-watching-people claw, clawing at me 

Wheeling me mole-like and weeping to be people-watched

Watched and wheeled hotel to bewitched hotel 

By people-watchers peeping philologically 

Watching their watches for people-watching

Watching welches, these people wait while copying

People, like nephews, cawing for watching 

To people-watch people,

These watching people… will they kill me?

These people-watching-people 

People-watching people like me

TRAINSPOTTING

 

Being hit by a train 

gracefully 

takes decades

Make your life choices 

with its inevitability 

in awareness

Pre-grieve it, 

see it coming 

through the trees

from long before

Lay your ear 

to the tracks 

& recognize it 

looming so soon

It is impossible 

for you to reconcile 

yourself to the train 

in an instant

Though in an instant 

it will have arrived 

& disappeared

around the bend

gone once and hence gone

as soon as it appears 

The train is never late

nor ever when expected

Always right on time

down to the second

Be ready traveler

The train is coming

CLASSIC LITERATURE REVIEW: ‘IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE (1985)’

By LAURA NUMEROFF, Illustrated by FELICIA BOND

 

The problem with the book,

If You Give A Mouse A Cookie,”

is it leads you to believe

there is one mouse 

with a million desires.

When in reality,

there are a million mice

with but one desire:

Cookies.

BIO: A former minister, then machinist and now accountant, Ron Arbuckle lives in Oklahoma with his wife & two kids on their family farm. After secretly writing it over the last two and a half years for his wife, Ron recently self-published his debut novel, A Matter of Design, and is currently working on a second novel while exploring poetry and other short forms of literary expression. His micro-fic and poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Trash Cat Lit, Michigan City Review of Books, Hidden Peak Press and others. You can find his irreverent, poor taste on X: @touchgrass_ron

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five poems