Poetic License Horoscope for March 11-17

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Happy birthday to my very favorite Pisces in the Universe, Shanny Jean Maney. In her honor, everyone should please make caramel brownies, watch Jeff Goldblum movies, and fall in love with the periodic table.

Aries (March 21-April 18): Winter is starting to loosen its grip. There’s one tulip leaf outside my window, winning the award for most optimistic. That’s you. And those really are buds on the trees, not just chill-induced hallucinations.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): To the Taurus who broke up with the guy for the right reasons: The walls of your future house are papered with sweet-but-not-too-sweet love poems. Fresh air is fluttering the perfect window treatments. Your well adjusted future children are shining down the steps like liberated angels.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): “There is no more intrepid explorer than a kitten,” says Jules Champfleury at the top of the March page of my 365 Kittens a Year calendar. This week, delve in, bravely and adorably.

Cancer (June 22-July 23):  A Cancer I know writes so beautifully about family. The trick, I think, is to let everyone in the story be human, broken, and perfect, all at the same time. That, and good line breaks.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Your To Do list: Write some new political slogans. Find pictures for all of your music files that don’t have album art. Tolerate that show your wife likes. Get some good rest before a long drive.

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): A wise cute boy poet once told me, “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s a dull emotion.” Practice being brazen, even if that brazenness is hidden for now in your pretty little notebooks, in the songs you play too many times, in the poems you carry around in your pocket.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): To the Libra newly in love with a pink-haired lady: Well, I hate to have to share you, but I love the sound of her in your voice, the drives you’ll take between each other’s houses, all the music of long distance getting closer and closer. Share it with the other Libras, if you please.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Please enjoy this nice paragraph from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House in the Big Woods: “After the sugar snow had gone, spring came. Birds sang in the leafing hazel bushes along the crooked rail fence. The grass grew green again and the woods were full of wild flowers. Buttercups and violets, thimble flowers and tiny starry grassflowers were everywhere.”

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): “Make me a vessel for anomaly.”(simon iris) Deal out your contradictions like Tarot cards and ask them for their secrets. Sort them like shiny stones or leave them unsorted like a Dutch still life, every season of flowers, all blooming at once.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Wish for a million dollars. Wish for world peace and the end of hunger. Wish for more episodes of Firefly. Wish for free love and ice cream. Wish for libraries worth of love poems. Wish anything.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): “When in doubt, err on the side of the threesome.”—Dan Savage

Poetic License Horoscopes is a free syndicated series which appears weekly on such lit blogs as The Serotonin Factory, Critical Mass and The Legendary  and Apiary If you are interested in adding the Poetic License Horoscopes to your lit journal / lit blog, please email me at serotoninfactory@gmail.com.