Poetic License Horoscope for March 18-24

Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): “If you see something you love, you’ve just gotta get it, and eat it.” (Shappy Seasholtz) This quote was inspired by coconut cream pie, but it can also be applied to your biggest, deepest meringue-cloud wishes. Get it. And eat it.

Aries (March 21-April 18): Sometimes I like to pretend that something is a big magical mystery for a while before I realize that I can just Google it. Research is magic, too. Know your true self by your search terms, or just look at pictures of kittens.

Taurus (April 19-May 18): “What we think about ourselves and our possibilities determines what we aspire to become."(Robert Frank) Add to your own thoughts the screams of your adoring fans, your mom and dad’s opinion on their best day, and, of course, the stars; we just think that you’re the bee’s knees.


Gemini (May 19-June 21): You’re in one of those dreams where you keep finding more and more rooms in your house—where did this extra parlor come from? Why is this ceiling painted like waves? What are these algorhithms painted on the windows? Why won’t this top stop spinning?

Cancer (June 22-July 23):  When the Big Love series ends next week, I have this wish that Margene (the most liberated sisterwife) would come to Philadelphia and pal around with me. Which adorable fictional characters would you invite into your life, and why?

Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I’m sorry if you are still singing to the music of a long commute. There’s work closer to home, soon, I promise. Imagine your life on two tokens a day, instead of measured out in gas tanks.

Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): (SPOILER ALERT) Congratulations to Kurt from Glee on his first romantic kiss with a guy. The stars are taking this to mean that all of our cute love-wishes are about to come true. Bury your broken songs in a festive ceremony and ready yourself for duets.

Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Write a thousand hymns to what’s missing. Make a scale model of the Universe out of cut paper. Stand in the middle and yearn.

Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): I used to slip ashtrays into my pocket to remember every diner I loved, and then sit in the middle of that plunder and smoke. Do whatever is the healthier version of that. Send me a picture of your wholesome souvenirs.

Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” (Eleanor Roosevelt) Rethink your limitations, even if it’s just to change the color of your scarf, your ink. Know that you are the pretty thing you always talk about in everybody else.

Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): At my church we used to light candles each week, to celebrate a joy or mark a sorrow. Recently they changed it to dropping a stone into water, and I don’t like that at all. Give yourself a little gift of warmth, a little time to think.

Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19):  You are an aquarium of lost things, attachments and unattachements floating by in lovely, unattainable colors. 1. Don’t tap on the glass. 2. Look and see who’s standing next to you, out of the water.

Poetic License Horoscopes is a free syndicated series which appears weekly in such places 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.

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.

For the Kitten Collection

Happy Birthday, Shae!

Nine years ago, the 22nd fell on Thanksgiving Day. My family was staying at my sister's in-laws. My sister went into labor first thing in the morning, and we all spent the day in the hospital. There was plenty of time to watch Thanksgiving-themed sitcoms and obsess to my brother about this girl Amy, with whom I'd recently attended a meteor shower.

After Shae was born, our whole family dynamic changed. We went from loving-but-squabbly to mostly always thrilled to be in each other's company.

I'm so glad I have my little niece to pore over Daily Squee with, to sit and read with, to have so much fun with.

In her honor, here's my favorite web gem of all time.