Poetic License Horoscopes for July 6-12

Cancer: Get all of your advice this week from Carly Rae Jepsen! Cut through the clouds, break the ceiling! Wake up in tangles, oh! You don’t have to avoid dizzy love or a hope-comedown, Cancer, just get some pretty craft scissors, the kind with fancy scalloped edges, and cut to the feeling.

Leo: “That strange feeling of being there and not being there came back. One line led to another and a story slowly formed under my hands.”—Lynda Barry in the amazing magical creativity book What It Is. Set a timer for 20 minutes and do the thing. Let the interruptions of your inner censors fall to the ground like seeds. Disregard their voices until the vines grow up though your feet, grow up your arms, and move whatever you make to (your) nature’s own whims.

Virgo:  Get you somebody who looks at you the way Christian Cooper listens to birds. Take everything else you need, heart, soul, and song, from this best piece of video ever recorded: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qd2XyGFTzk

Libra: You’ve dedicated your art to helping repair the world, good! As you go into new clarity and purpose, take care of your best resource: you! What new flair can you bring to sleep? A couch nap for no reason? A dadlike snooze in the chair with the TV on? You must be able to get the sound of baseball somewhere! Practice hearing the thrum of the fan, the conversations of the birds, the dispatches from your very own overflowing heart. (See also: Leo)

Scorpio: Undistracted by footprints, the waves leave a beautiful, studied, regular pattern on the sand. With prisms in all the windows, the order of all things becomes clear: the rainbows swim and dance all around like a cosmic clock. (Because that’s what they are.) The angle of the sun is dependable. So are the tides! And so are you.

Sagittarius:  The stars chose “Truth Hurts” by Lizzo as our handwashing song and we sincerely regret it—it’s sad that such a good song just reminds us of soap! But on the other hand, let’s consider the MIRACLE of soap! What a gift that 20 seconds is! To have warm running water and a clean towel. Even in this new wave of pandemic, there are new ways to find the luxury! Unless today’s just not that kind of day for you, then fuck it!

Capricorn:  Remember your breath and praise it! Give it every reward for continuing to keep you alive. Guided meditations about rainbow chakras! (Trigger warning for pseudoscience though!) Smell the sweet smells of strawberries, lake water, green grass, and wine. Breathe the rhythm of the waves, the angle of the sun, the sound of your feet on the pavement and your fast songs turned all the way up and the sweat pouring down—your breath deserves every gift and luxury, every pretty, embroidered mask.

Aquarius:  After you’re done helping the stars throw all of the confederate statues in the river, let’s get the founding fathers next! One of the reasons the colonies declared independence was that they felt like England was getting too abolotiony! Be VERY abolitiony this week, Aquarius, both within and without. What symbols of terrifying old structures can you dismantle? Who is the real protagonist in the story? Not George Washington! Not Benjamin Franklin! Not even Alexander Hamilton! But probably Lin Manuel Miranda.

Pisces: Today is a good day to arrest the cops who murdered Breonna Taylor. Today’s a good day to say all the names. Write them on every light post, every dusty window, ever breath of condensation, ever sparkler trail, on every chalk-decorated sidewalk, across your own face. It won’t bring them back but it will honor them. Today’s a good day to honor them.

Aries: Duolingo, if you get behind on your language practice, will change all of your Level Five badges into golden little broken mirrors. It’s very sad. You have to fix them by practicing, but you don’t have to start all the way over, so that’s good! Take your time, Aries, but start repairing gently whatever it is you let fall away. A little green owl in a yellow tracksuit will praise you for your effort, and so will the stars.

Taurus: It’s a good week for mending. If you can’t figure out how to patch a given tear, sew on a little silk flower. Stitch the petals as much as you need and save a few extra, the way you might save the extra buttons that came with your favorite clothes. Give them their own little box marked “Special little things for mending.” Thread your needle, join an enriching Zoom, and get to work.

Gemini: “Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid.” sings George Washington as he gets ready to resign in Hamilton. Give it a listen and think about saying goodbye, about peaceful transfer of power, and about what you can do today to teach the current monster-in-chief to say goodbye. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEqnXNsAFL8

Poetic License Horoscope for March 4-10

 ***I'm excited to announce that the horoscopes have another new home this week: Apiary! Thanks to Lillian  and the rest of the beautifuls over there for always including me in their fun.

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Things to do while you’re waiting for the next season of Portlandia: Memorize famous bridges. Send lavish bouquets to Aimee Mann. Listen to Sleater-Kinney records backwards, for the hidden messages. Remember your mantra: Put birds on things. Put birds on things. Put birds on things.


Aries (March 21-April 18): The stars told me to tell you that Ira Glass is your guardian angel. He watches over everything you do, asking thoughtful questions and moving the story forward in such a patient, soothing voice.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): “The sum of all known reverence I add up in you whoever you are.” (Walt Whitman) Etch that into your mirror, paint it on your coffee cups, write it in the middle of your palms for luck.

Gemini (May 19-June 21): I like Steve Carell’s character in Dinner for Schmucks. He loves his ex-wife so much that he makes her a whole parkscape diorama. Peopled with little dressed-up taxidermied mice, but still, endearing!

Cancer (June 22-July 23): Dress optimistically, even if it means your ears might get cold. Show your faith with just-light-enough sweaters. Believe it’s warm out until you touch the window pane.

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Last night as I was snuggled up, reading in bed with my sweetie, she with her Wonder Woman graphic novel and I with my Bitch magazine, I thought, “This is exactly what I always hoped for.” Be prepared for similarly snuggly revelations.

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): “Love the music our beatbox bodies loop over sunrises. /Love the soft spots we leave for each other.”(Elliott D. Smith) The whole Universe is waking up next to you, blinking its eyes, with swoony thoughts and fancy plans.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Last week when I was freaking out about an upcoming math test, my tutor pal came over to help me. Even though he only stayed for an hour and most of that hour was spent on gossip, he helped me to improve my score by 14 questions worth of points. Someone’s waiting to work that kind of magic for you.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Hooray for Barb on Big Love! She’s realizing that she can have access to the divine without a man’s intercession! Sister-wife, listen more to your inner Margene, and less to your inner Nicki.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22):Last time my nephew Holden visited, he was very, very disappointed that he could not give a cheeseburger to either of our cats. But as for you, in the words of T.I. as paraphrased by Lolcats: you can haz whatever you like.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): I unsubscribed to my previously favorite podcast after the host made me cry on Twitter. Maybe we don’t need to interact with everything we love, or maybe we just have to keep trying. #stillalittlebrokenhearted

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Like a ghost in a library, you have access to everything, but need help turning the pages. What little winds can come along and flutter you forward? Maybe an Aries can lend you her guardian angel?

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.

Two Nice Paragraphs About Flowers by Laura Ingalls Wilder

I am so excited to be rereading the Little House on the Prairie series. It’s so inspiring, especially to anyone who aspires to write a clear picture of what his or her time period is like.

The juncos are hopping around the back yard, a reassurance that Spring might really be real sometime soon. Here’s more reassurance.

“All around that door green vines were growing out of the grassy bank, and they were full of flowers. Red and blue and purple and rosy-pink and white striped flowers all had their throats wide open as if they were singing glory to the morning. they were morning glories.

Laura went under those singing flowers into the dugout.”—from On The Banks of Plum Creek

(Spoiler alert? Big sister Mary is blind by this next one)

“Here’s the Buffalo wallow now.”

 “I know,” said Mary. They stood a moment, breathing in deeply the perfume of warm violets that came up as thick as honey. The buffalo wallow, perfectly round and set down into the prairie like a dish three of four feet deep, was solidly paved with violets. Thousands, millions, crowded so thickly that they hid their own leaves.”-from Little Town on the Prairie