Taurus (April 19-May 18): "Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.” (Vincent Van Gogh) However you steer your constellations, darling, I know you’ll make it warm and beautiful.
Gemini (May 19-June 21): The stars throw around a lot of flowering tree metaphors, we know, but you really are a wealth of them: a lilac festival. A cherry blossom jamboree, a forsythia resolution, yellow as anything. See all the riches?
Cancer (June 22-July 23): According to Marianne Moore, poems should be “Imaginary gardens with real toads in them.” It’s time to put in the morning glories, to go pick out some pretty annuals, to water the trees and flourish. The toads will come.
Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Last weekend, my wife spent a significant amount of time taking pictures of a tiny clump of moss on a stone wall, real close up so that it looked like a landscape. Then she spent many hours Photoshopping in a koala bear so that it looked like he was hugging one of the tiny stalks. I don’t know what advice to glean from this, but you have to admit, it’s awesome.
Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): “Then I'll dig a tunnel/ from my window to yours, /yeah a tunnel /from my window to yours. / You climb out the chimney/ and meet me in the middle, / the middle of the town.” (Arcade Fire) And if the middle happens to be Pittsburgh, you’ll be in Andy Warhol’s home town. Be sure to visit The Mattress Factory.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): “You change all the lead/ sleepin' in my head.” (Arcade Fire) I’ve been meaning to tell you, you’ve never been an experiment or a resolution, unless you count surprise alchemy, rare as a handwritten envelope, auspicious as a beloved song shuffled in. Life does work that way sometimes, I promise.
Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Last night I was at my church group and the topic was “strength.” After we did all of our talking and meditating and such, the leader’s husband brought out his scotch collection and lead us through a tasting. Strength indeed.
Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22):”Before they grew older and, I suppose/knew better, poets I’ve read seemed to really like the word archipelago.” (Cristen O’Keefe Aptowicz) Get used to being an array of islands, to calling across the water, to steering rickety boats and little planes from friend to friend.
Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Get out your butterfly book and start identifying whatever flutters by. Turn them into portents, Sharpie in your own omens for each: a painted lady means luck at the job interview. A tiny azure means a little sad, but it’s okay. And cabbage whites, the most common? Those just mean you’re beautiful.
Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Last weekend, my friend Hannah McDonald won the award for second most emo sexy poet in Philadelphia. Her prize was a used copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. She wrote an impromptu nostalgic love poem on the theme of “MySpace About Me” It’s time to go back and check your old networks, see what you find there.
Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): “I'll never know what you'll find when you open up your letter box tomorrow. 'Cause a little bird never tells me anything I want to know, she's my best friend, she's a sparrow.” (They Might Be Giants) Flood is a really good album. Bring it back into circulation!
Aries (March 21-April 18): Re: scotch and room temperature water: "This robust release of aromas is due to the old Chemistry 104 term called "heat of solution." In effect, this rule states that when two chemicals are mixed, they may "take on" or "release" energy, thus becoming cooler or warmer." (from Ask the Scotch Doc)
Poetic License Horoscopes is a free syndicated series which appears weekly on such lit blogs as The Serotonin Factory, Critical Mass , The Legendary and Apiary If you are interested in adding the Poetic License Horoscopes to your lit journal / lit blog, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.