THE SELF-MADE POET

counting dimes, living on tortillas
and refried beans, poetry workshops
beyond the hills—
designed for others, not for me;

so, I hung metaphors 
in the branches of every tree,
shook punctuation out of stars,
looked an earth worm

in the face—or was it the tail?
I let similes drench my hair,
splashed my boots in imagery,
kept rhythm with the rain;

I squeezed couplets 
out of oranges, let the juice
drip down my chin, hung
laundered rhymes on the line;

they smelled like sunshine
and lilacs and unpretentious
adjectives, and I laughed
and laughed and laughed,

amused by the anaphora
that tickled the end of my nose
like a piece of sweet clover
the size of a bunny’s tail.

Arvilla Fee teaches English Composition for Clark State College and is the poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. She has published poetry, photography, and short stories in numerous presses, and her poetry book, The Human Side, was released December 2022. For Arvilla, writing produces the greatest joy when it connects us to each other.