Poetic License Horoscope for July 8-14

Poetic License Horoscopes for July 8-14

Cancer (June 22-July 23): Like Nancy Botwin, protagonist of Weeds and drug dealer/former housewife, you can never resist the stormy pull of curiosity—tell her not to look in the tunnel, and down she goes, all the way to Mexico. You can follow paths the way she does, though not so darkly, and maybe not in such high heels.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): It is surprisingly fun to spend your day off editing, or checking for clerical errors, or checking off any number of sensible to-do list boxes. Just be sure you do something nice and impractical afterwards, like making a kite out of neckties, blowing candy bubbles, or picking out new sparkly shoes.

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): “There’s a blush for won’t, a blush for shan’t, / a blush for having done it: / There’s a blush for thought, a blush for naught, / and a blush for just begun it.” (John Keats) Collect blushes like ribbons and make a pretty nest.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Inspired by a very swoony kiss in an after hours club to the tune of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep (The stars prefer the remix feat. Childish Gambino) please pay attention to only the hottest lyrics and ignore the ones that seem unlucky. And smooch the grrrls and boys as much as you please. (Like we have to tell you that!)

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): “And what good does all the research of the Impressionists do/ them/ when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when/ the sun sank.”( Frank O’Hara) You’ll find him, or her, or them, and stand on the bank of some gorgeous body of water, immortalized and holding hands.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): To the Sagittarius in search of Ms. Right: You are looking in the right places and you are so, so pretty. She’ll cross your path on a smoky patio, as you march your next parade, or at your dream church with equal parts queer and Jesus, or next to you in line at the fancy cupcake shop. She’s coming, she smells nice, and, oh, she will love you.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): To the Capricorn wondering aloud if she will die alone: No. Of course not. Keep booking romantic flights, asking for numbers, and sending loving/inquisitive emails. Instead of dropping stones in water, light candles. Heat and light are coming, sure as the extravagance of fireworks, real as music.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19) Make more lists of emotionally neutral music, keep making new connections and re-connections. Keep collecting dear friends, knightly figures and love letters until it’s all as numerous, bright, and silly as sparklers.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): “I would like to give you the silver/ branch, the small white flower, the one/ word that will protect you/ from the grief/ at the center of your dream.” (Maragret Atwood) That one word is sleep. Curl up in a duvet soft as a gardenia and snooze fairy lights and oceans and fluffy cloud frescoes of peace.

Aries (March 21-April 18): The stars are making you a mixtape, dear. It’s called Songs for an Imaginary Support Group. You might guess which songs are on it, so feel free to use them to sing yourself to sleep, to lull your sweethearts along the Kinsey scale, to snuggle your pens along to your next ten million poems.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): To one Taurus getting ready for her first one-woman show and another just home from the road: “What's your road, man? -holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow." (Neal Cassady as Dean Moriarty in On The Road) Have a cup of coffee, leave your day job behind,  drive crazy, and be as prolific as flowering trees.


Gemini (May 19-June 21): To the Gemini who proposed to his sweetheart by building her a Lego replica of her yellow-doored dreamhouse: how does it feel to have earned a whole lifetime of snuggles in one transaction of blocks and diamonds? How does it feel to be a charm millionaire?