I print out pieces on clean white paper,
seven pages soon to be assembled.
I grab the scissors, uncap the glue,
and picture it coming to life,
the way a dozen have before.
Careful cutting, piece by piece,
bring out the instructions
to see how it will all intertwine.
A touch of glue will hold them together…
place them carefully – don’t show the white.
Start with the head and shape it carefully
tweezers will help for the smaller bits.
Attach the neck and arms,
fumble with the fingers,
round out the belly,
keep building down to the feet.
Attach the tail and add personality.
Close the foot, and the other
sealing it up.
Stick on the toes, and pray he will stand,
and not fall on his face.
Put him on the shelf next to his friends.
Author’s Notes (may contain spoilers):
This poem is about the art of assembling papercraft models. I discovered papercraft relatively recently, and found myself enjoying, considering that it’s quite relaxing, and the finished models make for an interesting piece of decor. I’ve assembled over thirty of them as of this writing, and have at least a few more planned.
I especially like building models of creatures; Pokemon has become a popular subject. You may have seen an image I tweeted yesterday depicting a model of sceptile (If you want to build your own sceptile, I got him from here). That sceptile was the model I had built most recently when I wrote this poem, and thus, is probably the main inspiration. However, he is actually only five pages, not seven, like I said in the poem. Most models are less than seven pages – seven just sounded better.
As I continued the poem, I wanted to make the model seem to come to life through the words I used, as it became to take form, going from looking like a few pieces of paper glued together to the creature. It made the poem sound a bit creepier than I originally intended, but I ultimately came to like that.