Friday, April 8, 2011

Poetic License Horoscope for April 8-14

Aries (March 21-April 18): Happy birthday to my dad, the stand-up comedian. May you be as sharp as Bill Hicks, as revolutionary as Jon Stewart, and far more emotionally healthy than Marc Maron.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): You're talking to the pieces of a man who's trying to make it/through the puzzles, travels, struggles, battles/a body pillow pimp trying to snuggle with my shadow.” (Felt) Of course, sweetheart, of course.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): To the Gemini browsing the art supply store with me, saying he misses drawing—so draw! Look at all these sketch pads, in every shape, size and texture. Look at all the pencils and markers and paint. Look at the glitter!

Cancer (June 22-July 23): “All of your poems always ask a good/hard question.” (Rachel McKibbens re: Daniel McGinn) Keep asking, like a little kid, until they answer.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I found a stack of lottery tickets on the ground, and I knew you’d be mad if I didn’t pick them up. I didn’t win, of course, but what a sin to leave maybe-luck on the ground!

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Oh nice girl, you can dance the Black Swan, of course you can. Just block the door, smash you ballerina jewelry box, get mixed up with Mila Kunis. You’ll be fine. You’ll end up blissful and totally not dead.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Who knows where you’ll be this weekend, shoulder to shoulder with solemn suits or coaching children’s poetry? Wherever you are, you’re generous, brilliant and true, and you make great mixes, too.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Make lists of your loves, past and present. Never mind that you’re giving away secrets or revealing cute little elaborate scars. Write them on fancy paper and float them out on streams like hopeful little boats.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Every time you didn’t go out to play, or watch a movie, or eat booze-flavored gelato, or pet dogs on the street, or skip writing that one last thank-you note, your little sacrifices are adding up like mosaics, ready to be pieced together into something big.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): To the Capricorn who couldn’t get a ride to the Dead Milkmen show at the Troubadour in 1994: Missed connections are just as important, or at least I hope so, because I can’t afford Death Cab tickets this summer.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): The stars still love you. That is all.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Write love poems to the best things that’ve ever happened—that time your parents were nice, amusement park refreshments, chewy cherry-flavored Spree—everything loves you back.

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

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