Poetic License Horoscope for January 28-February 3
Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Our brains are programmed to remember danger. That’s why one saber-tooth complaint can loom larger than one hundred compliments. Don’t lie awake trying to forget teeth. Collect praise like Mancala marbles.
Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Winter is speeding by and in your dreams, it’s already Spring. Remember the leaves? They remember you!
Aries (March 21-April 18): My friend Fiona was INCENSED when some lady told her she was too young to understand snail mail. To that person she should quote Virginia Woolf: “Life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the very beginning.”
Taurus (April 19-May 18): “The dream of the Nineties is alive in Portland” goes the theme song of my new favorite show, Portlandia. No matter where you are, try it: Sleep until 11, experiment with flannel, start your own adult hide-and-seek league. Fun, right?
Gemini (May 19-June 21): "True love is boundless like the ocean and, swelling within one, spreads itself out and, crossing all boundaries and frontiers, envelops the whole world" –Mahatma Ghandi
Cancer (June 22-July 23): Count your tropes like treasures: Your lists of flowers, the number of times you mention rain, your beautiful and ever-befuddling mate. Chime them like a clock, sing them like a mantra.
Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): This is your mix tape week. Make yourself a soundtrack for everything. Label all of your unnamed songs, archive your musical gifts.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): A favorite Libra poet of mine is always trying to give away his stage time—don’t do that. Take your turn and have your say—you’re worthy and your voice is beautiful.
Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Spring is coming like a hoped-for apology, a letter scented with lilacs and stamped with fresh earth. Can you hear the blossoming, underneath the crickle of ice?
Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Your heart is as big as California. This time of year, I miss your perfect daffodils, your supermarkets of bright, inexpensive bouquets, your stretches of highway that smell like strawberries, your eucalyptus nights.