The Stick Figure Poem ~ Charles A. Swanson

–“and the Word became Flesh,” —John 1:14 (RSV)
–“and someday, I’m gonna be a real boy!” —Pinocchio

The stick figure man tries to figure
how his frail matchsticks
can gain some flesh. He walks along,
stick sun overhead, thin sticks

for rays, and he wants yellow
to warm him. He wants
some cheeks to blush and grow rosy.
The thin stick tulips

need to purple up. The little stick
dog needs to wag his tail.
The stick figure man most of all
needs his God to save him.

Poor stick figure man is at the end
of the Hangman’s noose,
knowing that one more consonant
is needed to make the word,

“salvation.” Poor stick figure man,
pale stick bones in the valley
of dry bones, he wants to connect,
find the word for ligament,

find the word for expression,
find among the dry bones
of words, all the letters for
consciousness and conscience.