Poetic License Horoscopes for Aug 3-? (Last Ones for a While, the Stars Have a New Old Project)

Leo: The mayor’s office is negotiating with our homeless settlements, that’s good. Our city has enough, has MORE than enough (#defundthepolice) to give rooms and doors and beds and windows and Covid-19 testing and dignity and love. We should be a city (a nation, a world) that keeps all of our citizens sheltered and loved. Do what you can to provide shelter and care, both within yourself and without. Stay inside if you’re able, stay close, and care for everything living within and around you. Water the plants. Pet the cats. You’re always within our care.

Virgo: Your word for the coming birthday year is windfall. You wanted abundance but it’s been destroyed by every evil“law of attraction” charlatan. Still, please accept the richness already washing over you, already filling your bookshelves and paint pots and fridge. Your refrain, which you’ll find in almost any given moment is true: I have everything I need. Accept every gift: A stack of graduated-from second-grade games, a smile from the driver next to you at the light, the sunset over your blessed evening swim. The windfall may not be what you’ve expected, but it’s already here.

Libra: There are always houses you’ll want to go back to, more projects to complete, more streets you might someday park in again. It’s okay to let mourning and gratitude wash over you like gently disagreeing waves. The stars can feel the cool wash and magnetism of the paragraphs and paragraphs you’re ready to make, natural and sympathetic as breath. You’re the gentle clockwork of the tides, the moon that hides the brief comet. What you’re building is a telescope that will help us discover, cry, and change. Set a timer for twenty minutes and start your pen moving—we know it will work.

Scorpio: Imagine November! Better yet, join https://postcardstovoters.org/  and practice sharing hope and determination with strangers. You’ve got a built-in excuse to skip Thanksgiving if you need it, but hopefully you won’t need it. Your mantra is peaceful transfer of power. Your mantra is Vice President Harris. Voter suppression is a monument build on blood and fists and billy clubs and centuries; drag it from its pedestal and sink it in a lake. May Fannie Lou Hamer visit you in dreams and teach you how to textbank. May a million righteous angels guard your ballot and the ballots of all the future children. Also, here’s a really cute podcast: https://www.vote.org/podcast/

Sagittarius: When the weekly grocery store roses start to wilt or I just get tired of the cats trying to eat them, the stars like to gently take apart the petals and strew them outside the front door. It’s good to give a welcome even if only neighborhood cats are coming to visit. Give bright welcome to essential workers and their gifts, welcome neighbors with everyday questions, welcome even the landlord, unless that’s not your thing. Sometimes you can’t even help but to welcome the unwelcome lanternflies. See who and what else you can beautifully, delicately, and wholeheartedly welcome this week. Masked and six-feet-apart, of course!

Capricorn: Whatever projects you’ve started (painting a flowered fence, turning vines into blank-limbed sculpture, choosing new carpet, somehow surviving the Zoom age with (mostly) humor and grace, reading a serious book for ten minutes a day, actually getting up when the alarm goes off, weeding the garden, printing out your newest batch of Postcards to Voters addresses, filling out tedious and fruitful forms, reaching the elusive Laundry Zero, writing a poem just for you or for everyone, etc.) will flourish and grow every day, even when it doesn’t seem so. What you’re making, what you’re living, is beautiful and lasting, delicate and precious. Keep going and remember! The stars love you.

Aquarius: The stars are with you in feeling the scramble of September, the seismic Zoom-shudder of “What even IS school anyway?” We will be jangled-ly delighting in college bookstore chitchat soon enough, stacking books, remembering the radio, filling envelopes. It’s tempting to push ourselves for growth, but please be gentle: This is still survival mode. Let your work just keep you alive, occasionally giving you faces to see and tasks to complete. But! Until it’s time for vaccine days and predictable hours, set yourself a timer for 20 minutes. Draw something little, write a verse or two, sing in the car, call Congress, call a friend. Take good care with sleep, except staying up for meteors. We promise, you will have your ease.

Pisces: Holy Jeepers! The Initial Friend! The stars have thought for all these years that Take Offs and Landings aas Rilo Kiley’s first album but no! Guess what!!! There’s a whole other debut! So, like, the stars’ favorite band, long-broken-up, has a whole record I didn’t know about and it’s coming out later this year?! https://nerdist.com/article/rilo-kiley-rereleasing-rare-1999-first-album/ Whaaaaaaaat?!?! Expect more of these kinds of weird windfall miracles! In the coming months, you’ll find long-lost diamonds under the couch cushions. Your garden will overflow with volunteer flowers. And maybe, maybe, MAYBE, our bodies will welcome the glittering magic of a new vaccine, so Jenny and Blake can tour again.

Aries: Miracle of miracles, the stars returned our library books yesterday afternoon! The drop box was right there, unlocked! There’s even, in some places, curbside pickup for reserves! Make your library list long and thorough, everything you’re even flirted with reading. If you can’t library yet, remember it’s still a public service to support your local independent bookstores! (Libro.fm for audiobooks, Bookshop.org for paper books!!!) Now is your time to collect without guilt, even Marie Kondo will bless and approve your shelves.

Taurus: Turn up the sir conditioners and pretend it’s spring cleaning! Change the bedding. Vacuum and mop. Empty the wastebaskets and cross your fingers that the recycling truck will come. (That we’ll treat our essential workers fairly and safely!) Upend the bins that have gotten out of control and sort them meticulously, see what you can reclaim and what you can leave behind. Thank hole-y things for their help and send them on their way. Mend what you can. Glue gems back onto necklaces, ship stray beads away to whoever can use them anew. Save all the glass jars as vases—You’ll never not want to hand out flowers! Make room for the comfort and safety that is surely coming your way some day.

Gemini: Oh, the PUA (Pandemic Unemployment Assistance, not Pick-Up Artist) Stimulus, oh, sweet, sweet Nancy Pelosi money! The stars are grieving it with you. Whether you’ve used it to hang on by a thread or weave an unlikely and precious cushion, we praise it with you. The stars can certainly promise you more stimulae, more soft places, more gently tended paths for what comes next. This isn’t about resumes, not really. For now, sleep is free, peaches are cheap in some places, and evening walks are (sometimes sweatily) possible. The moon is in line with Saturn and Jupiter, and we promise you will always have friends who are just as astronomical.

Cancer: At a certain point, the herb garden just became a flower garden. The stars should really cook something. Look at what you already made that’s free and delicious and not TOO gnawed by baby caterpillars. Pick and smell the sage-y goodness. Chop it up into whatever mix. It’s a fantastic time to make Mojitos with all this mint!

Poetic License Horoscopes for July 27-Aug 3 (How About We Don’t Name Things After Grand Wizards Edition)

Cancer: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Leo: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Virgo: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Libra: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Scorpio: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Sagittarius: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Capricorn: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Aquarius: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

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Pisces: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Aries: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Taurus: The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Gemini:  The stars really miss sharing the world with John Lewis. Not only was he a Civil Rights leader who sacrificed his safety in service of voting rights and other racial justice goals, he also cared for us as a nation by serving as a congressman for thirty-three years! AND he helped keep the Movement alive by authoring the March Trilogy graphic novels https://bookshop.org/books/march-trilogy-slipcase-set/9781603093958 which serve to bring the civil rights struggle vividly to life for the next generations of activists. For these reasons and so, so many others, the stars feel that the Edmund Pettus Bridge should be renamed after Representative John Lewis. Kindly sign the petition if you haven’t already: https://www.change.org/p/public-renaming-the-edmund-pettus-bridge?use_react=false

Poetic License Horoscopes for July 13-19 (Made Up and Always Taking Requests)

Cancer: “When I talk about owning eloquent rage as your superpower, it comes with a clear caveat that not everyone is worth your time or your rage.” --Brittney Cooper, Eloquent Rage (https://bookshop.org/books/eloquent-rage-a-black-feminist-discovers-her-superpower-9781250112880/9781250112880) If you’ve already tried and tried, turn away from your sheltered and unwilling cousins, your lost-to-Russian-interference mom and give your ears to people who might actually listen. Or even better, turn to yourself, see what you can learn!

Leo: You’re already doing the best first step: See what you can grow. Admire the emphatic voices of the echinacea and bee balm, who put roots down in every single available sunny place. They’re reaching up, just like you. Taste the sweet savory of your own tomatoes and breathe in the spicy scent of the little marigolds whose roots are standing guard. Cultivate your team, tap deep into the soil, and grow wildly.

Virgo: When the time comes, you’ll remember how to person, I promise. Your fears and resentment won’t leave, don’t worry, but they will agree to pipe down for a few days. Then, there’ll be nothing but birdwatching, careful hugs, and precious confiding. You’ll leave with your inheritance of silk flowers ready for laundering, honey from your bee siblings, and the spoils of a Thrifty Shopper splurge. You didn’t forget how to accept love. You’ll never forget.

Libra: It’s there waiting for you, the farm in the hills. The peacocks stroll the grounds singing disco jams instead of screams. The strawberries grow as big as your head. The ground is gently watered by the healing tears of non-problematic Rose Quartzes. Assemble your plant march. Gather all the loud and loving seeds. Reuse everything you can and turn the rest into worms and butterflies. You’re already living according to the weather, so you’re doing just great.

Scorpio: The stars found an envelope of photos at the bottom of a pile of inherited silk flowers. There were pictures of two different exes at Grandmom’s house. (The stars have exes, obvs.) Miss your past characters but savor the connections, the warmth, the copious food they were fed. It’s amazing the number of friends, family, and loves who could inhabit one couch in a lifetime. They all came and went and you’re still here, even though that couch is gone. All the loves are still in your bloodstream, still with you, and they will never leave.

Sagittarius: The kids are doing ziplining for their birthdays because it’s possible to social distance while thrillingly distancing oneself from the ground. Find a similarly invigorating safe risk and put it on the calendar, just maybe not for today. You still need some kind of modified leaping, some bright-sky way to raise your pulse, but please, please, please make sure you land in pillows and safe hugs.

Capricorn: “Take a break! Get away with us for the summer, let’s go Upstate!” –from Hamilton. John Adams may not have a real job anyway, but you do! You’ve been doing so, so much! Maybe not fifty-one essays (Or maybe! The stars don’t know everything about your life!) but still, you’re so prolific in love, beauty, and forbearance. Count up all the ways you’ve sacrificed and then find a way to clock out. Your heart and sleep will thank you.

Aquarius: This week, the stars bought Aldi-roses that match my niece’s first set of D&D dice: the color of sunset. You too can build order out of beauty and random connections. Build serendipitous chimes of love and fate in the wilderness. Shae will dice with her friends and make stories that didn’t exist before and the roses will sit quietly on the home altar, telling me the world still sort of makes some kind of  sense.

Pisces: Writer, teacher, and certified non-humbug Shannon Maney asks: “Hey! What’s working really well for your survival right now? Businesses that are crushing contactless service? Humans that are linking you to great resources for concrete anti-racist work? Favorite mask patterns? I’ve been bringing the humbug on here lately, but there is so much good! What’s good?” Leave your answers in the comments here and everywhere. Good is real.

Aries: Watch the first season of the anthology series Cake and think about any of the following things: The varying textures of cake and frosting, as well as how those would feel if used as a pillow. The place of a sensitive person in the world. The wistfulness inherent in dating-app swiping. The motivational nature of dinosaurs. Binge if you can, then maybe write!

Taurus: “Part of my anger is always libation for my fallen sisters. Anger is an appropriate reaction to racist attitudes, as is fury when the actions arising from those attitudes do not change.”-- Audre Lorde. The stars are always telling you, but it bears repeating: Your anger is sacred and worthy. It is yours to offer up to Sandra Bland and every other bright spirit we don’t get to share the planet with. Make it loud, make it bright, and broadcast it in every beautiful way. The stars promise, we’re practicing our listening.

Gemini:  Until she was murdered by police in her home, Corryn Gaines was a revolutionary artist-treasure. She rewrote the license plates on her car because she felt beautifully and rightly entitled to drive and speak. The front plate said “Free traveler” and the back said “Any government official who compromises this pursuit of happiness will be held criminally responsible and fined, as this is a natural right and freedom.” (Read more in Eloquent Rage by Brittney Cooper: (https://bookshop.org/books/eloquent-rage-a-black-feminist-discovers-her-superpower-9781250112880/9781250112880) Honor Corryn by doing something 1/10 that courageous. (Paging Lin-Manuel Miranda! Corryn Gaines musical please!)

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 June 29-July 5

Cancer: As Pete and Frank sing on 30 Rock, “It’s never too late for now.” Still wishing you’d started a quarantine hobby? Go ahead! Need to re-fall in love with the One that Got Away and get all Sliding Doors-y? Why not, as long as you have your unfollow button handy! We all need muses. Even if your Shiny New Thing is extreme napping, go for it with your entire heart! It’s not like we can go to the movies. (I mean, we can, but there’s that whole not-wanting-to-die thing.)

Leo: No matter WHAT claustrophobia or commentary comes your way, the stars think you’re doing GREAT! How can a person with an entire apron collection possibly do any wrong?! Your family is well-loved, if not always well-slept. There’s sunshine coming in all the windows all the time. I assume your ceiling fans have been installed against the insidious humidity. If you can, fix up a gentle drink and go read outside for a while. Or just look at leaves and listen for birdsong. Do yourself one favor after another. You’ve been doing a WONDERFUL job.

Virgo: The stars keep dreaming roadtrips home from California, even though we’ve been gone for sixteen years. We know what it means. Random visitors keep joining the trip—a problematic aunt, a student and her family, a dear former massage therapist who once came with us on a hunt for fairy houses. The dreams are like The Muppet Movie in reverse—retracing our steps, dropping off friends, forgetting to say goodbye. It’s okay, other adventures await you. For now, rest and write.

Libra: “We need, in every community, a group of angelic troublemakers. Our power is in our ability to make things unworkable.”—Bayard Rustin. Listen to the unsung king who planned the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom! Fly in the way of every racism you see. Carry every policeman (literal and metaphorical) away into the clouds. Sing and scream glitter and blessings at every pedestal until all the bad statues are in the sea where Aquaman can punch them.

Scorpio: “You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And you have to do it all the time.”—Angela Davis in 2014. You don’t have to steal vibranium artifacts from museums, but you can if you want to! Whatever is glowing around the purple edges of possibility, smash the glass and take it. The stars have been told by therapists that we have to work on our locus of control, but it really is up to every one of us to reorder the world and make it glowing, make it just.

Sagittarius: We’ve been too sheepish to Google it yet, but the stars are in the market for a beautiful fly swatter in rose gold. This is because we are tired of taking off a shoe every time we see a spotted lanterfly nymph getting ready to eat the garden. What beautiful and absolute solution can you find to an invasive, ravenous annoyance? How can you decorate unpleasant necessity?

Capricorn: There are lots of different theories about the too-many-fireworks-lately. It’s even been suggested that they’re provided by the government and meant to deprive activists of sleep! Maybe! More likely, fireworks are fun and sparkly, a loud and mostly safe release. Either way, either way, don’t call the police! Find a way to gaze up in wonder, even now that the the surge and spark is commonplace. You’re alive, after all, if you’re reading this! I hope you’re reading this!

Aquarius:  THE STARS WANT TO SEE MORE PICTURES OF YOUR QUARANTINE OUTFITS!  We CANNOT get enough of fancy-for-no-reason or of pajamas outside! Go for both at once, why not?! We’re a little freakish and ghoulish for enjoying this magical moment in fashion history, but nonetheless: You are soft, sweet, ruffled, and comfy, trimmed with tiny bows. You never, ever have to wear shows that hurt. Sure, get wistful for eye makeup and showing your whole face, but make up for it in mask style and Zoom glamour. This is a time, as all times should be, of making beautiful room for ourselves.

Pisces: Season Two of Homecoming stars Janelle Monáe! Who would you be if you woke up on a boat having forgotten your own name? What friends would you make to save you or be saved? What hotel-key spoilers? What surprising reveals. Check your “Previously ons” and see what might be next!

Aries: Maybe, I hope, things have calmed down enough in your heart and mind that you might be able to catch up on Welcome to Night Vale! (Remember how chilling it was in that one episode when the sirens had stopped?) Listen to Cecil calm and gaslight, spin suspicion into peace.  Find out and follow the proverb of the day. Listen on the way home from the beach where DEFINTELY not enough people wear masks or just while you’re home folding your mask collection into neat little Marie Kondo tubes. Sometimes there’s order, even just in a story that rings in your ears.

Taurus: This week, the stars returned to Longwood Gardens, wearing a dress that made it look like we should be hitting on Duckie at the prom. (Though you know we’re a Blaine girl…) There were so, so many new flowers, new angles, new light—it was like guided meditation in a dream. In the waterlily garden, a blue dragonfly had alit on nearly every lily’s metal nameplate. Find something that steady, that sustaining, and rest.

Gemini: OMG the Hamilton movie comes out on Friday!!! We’ll be watching with my sister’s family who live five and a half hours away, linked by a group text and five years of car-singing. Y’all! We will get to watch David Diggs play Lafayette AND Jefferson, at least one of whose statues should be taken down and thrown into the sea. Remember “Tomorrow, there’ll be more of us.” At the March for Our Lives? Remember “Love is love is love is love’? In a hundred years if there’s still an America, it will be 80 percent because of Hamilton. It’s better than we deserve.

Poetic License Horoscope for June 22-29

Gemini: There were so, so many options for how to celebrate Juneteenth this year! The stars hope it’ll be like this every year, but with slightly less Zoom! By next year, it’ll be a national holiday, and we’ll all be dancing maskless in the park or street or backyard or museum. Till then, treat yourself or teach yourself, or both, and rise up all you can. Celebrate all of your freedom and your friends.

Cancer: The morning glories are starting to bloom, just slowly, just the purple ones so far. Tend every spindly shoot, give them sticks or baskets or chairs to climb on. Trim a few back so the rest can grow unabashed, unruly, tall and grabby as can be. By fall, you’ll be surrounded by blue determination, breathing hope into you every time you walk out the door, petals and vines of your own resilience.

Leo: OMG!!! All of the local fancy gardens have opened, plus the pool and the beach. It feels so overwhelming, and the stars mostly still need to commune with the flowers of Instagram. Follow them all and take it slow, scrolling past one petal, one leaf, one sustaining burst of purple at a time. At home, the streets are full of rose-scent, even if you venture a block! Wherever and whenever you emerge, there’s every treasure waiting for you. Even under quarantine, you’re a flower millionaire.

Virgo: James Baldwin said “I can’t be a pessimist because I am alive. To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that life is an academic matter, so I’m forced to be an optimist. I’m forced to believe that we can survive whatever we must survive.” You might not be James Baldwin though, so it’s okay sometimes to quiet your optimism and just listen to whatever hurt is kind enough to be shared with you. Take it in your hand like diamonds.

Libra: It’s pride, and the stars are so glad that the rainbows are expanding, keep adding new angles and intersections! Or, more accurately, those other stripes have always been there, we’re just getting better at loving them, we hope! Wear all of your stripes like wizard’s robes and write your own Mirror of Erised. Better yet, smash the whole mirror and write what’s perfect, now, and real. In June and always you’re in charge of writing yourself—keep writing!

Scorpio:  Spritzers are our Sundays this summer, and White Claws are our weekday religion. Dedicate entire labyrinths of brainspace to which seltzer goes with which pink wine, which flavor would go best with illicit neighborhood fireworks and a Wet Hot American Summer rewatch. For goodness sake, don’t try the coconut!

Sagittarius: “Blammo!” says Liz Lemon after she gets in an argument through a window with a bookstore clerk, “Another successful interaction with a man!” The thing is, though, maybe it WAS successful! Don’t be afraid to be a pain in the ass, for maybe better reasons than Liz had though. High five a million angels, as Liz would also say, for every snip at a ‘splaining stranger, every strongly worded letter, every time you go after the mayor in his or her or their own comments section. (Jeez, just get rid of Columbus already! I want us to be on Rebecca Solnit’s tally!) Bug them all until the patriarchy is toppled, the police are defunded, the prisons are abolished, and so on. Never stop not stopping!

Capricorn: The stars saw you doing your poetry on the steps of the art museum the other day, vulnerably implacable against the coming and going storms. What you may not have noticed was the sparkling shaft of rainbow light shining down through the rare clouds, bundling you up in protection and peace like spiritual bubble wrap, or better yet, like a million real hugs. You are the steps and sky and universe’s treasure, and you shall have every single important thing.

Aquarius: The stars are a little upset that people are getting too casual about masks, so we’re sending caution and bedazzled bandannas to everyone you know and love. We’re sending blankets, and tea, and pink wine spritzers, and 30 Rock episodes, and romcoms to read. Horror stories only if they need a safe thrill. Sometimes, our first names are Chicken And, so we know about soup, we know about pillows, and so do you. Bring everyone you know flowers, especially you. If you run out of generosity, we will shine you down some more.

Pisces: Study unusual animal friendships like it’s your job! The pangolin who bonds with the bat over their unfair vilification.  The cat who befriends a baby duck then wakes up one day with a grown duck on her head. Listen as the birds of all shapes and kinds weave themselves into an undistanced flock to sing “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” Follow their advice and let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Aries: All hail the KPop fans and Tik Tok teens who banded together to sabotage Agent Orange’s vile, slap-in-the-face, murder-by-breath trip to Tulsa. Every context is political, every platform is a valuable shout, and every person is responsible for fighting fascism in their own way. There are as many ways to resist as there are stars in the sky. Get in where you fit in, Aries!

Taurus: The stars spend a good chunk of time wondering if Ventiko, the artist responsible for Dexter the Emotional Support Peacock, was part of the same artists’ collective that trained Pizza Rat and Selfie Rat. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-42880690 Whether she brought Dexter to the airport sincerely or as performance art, think of Dexter every day. What wild, extravagant, proud, so-decadent-as-to-be-absurd care can you give yourself. Do it all.

Poetic License Horoscope for June 15-21

Aries: Around here, the commercials are changing from annoyingly sincere we-a-company-really-care-abut-you themes (Seriously, fuck ALL the way off, Amazon) to annoyingly sincere we’re-all-gonna-see-our-friends-again-in-person stories. It’s okay if you’re not ready for this. Neither is anyone. If you want to keep peering warily out the door except at protest time or keep perfecting your listening expression via Zoom, go ahead. You’ve come so far, be safe and careful.

Taurus: Someday, you’ll be able to return your library books. You’ll be able to hug your favorite librarian for real and then stand around a while chatting about politics. You’ll browse shelves that have been waiting all this time for you, be able to restart your TBR list with a vengeance. In the meantime, have you written to your mayor and city council to make sure the libraries are funded? The stars would like them to have the money previously earmarked for the racist police! https://www.inquirer.com/opinion/commentary/philadelphia-city-budget-library-cuts-police-reform-20200610.html

Gemini: Now, we paint out our intentions on the streets. Decorate and rename the whole map of you to honor Black Lives Matter. Use everything from highway yellow to sweet pastels. Use love, plus everything from chalk to Krylon. In her window, my neighbor made a miniature justice garden tended by little bears. You and she are spelling out the future inside and out. Everything is here for you, waiting to be remade.

Cancer:  Consider what you might call about on the non-emergency line in our safe-as-pillows post-police future. “Hello, you’d say, can you help me with this bird call? I think it’s an oriole but I’m not sure.” Ask how many colors in an outfit are too many! The stars run that line and they’ll tell you there’s no limit. Ask what your cat’s trying to say when she places a paw on your arm while you’re reading, or when your other cat misunderstands an open book for a bed. Things are quieter, brighter, and slower when no one is hunting us, I promise.

Leo: You’re planting a labyrinth of seeds, I promise. As you walk through the same magic space again and again, the flowers will grow taller, and more emphatic, and more thorough. You’ll be more and more aggressively a rainbow. Every bloom, every prism facet of nature is here for you, to teach you. Look into their bright and petalled faces. Step lightly among the stalks. The leaves are here to make energy and feed you. The scent is where you learn to thrive.

Virgo: The stars do not know what to tell you. Ache is just sometimes ache. There’s no puzzle-box that unlocks it, no secret labyrinth door that unlocks with a secret translation, a sapphire amulet, or a handy code. It’s just ache. Make a spot for it next to the good window. Drink your coffee, look out at the leaves, and pine for all you’re missing, for all you’ve lost, not matter the obscene riches you still have. There’s still plenty of time in the day for walks, marches, and letters to congress. You’ll be fine.

Libra: Here’s how you unlock the book that’s already knit itself into your cells: Walk along the beach in the evening, without worrying about where you’ve left the towels, the cooler, the striped umbrella, the hibiscus La Croix, the special mermaid-themed phone case to keep out the sand. Just walk, unencumbered, in the sparkling edge of the waves. Study shell fragments, look for whole scallop shells or sand dollars or Cape May diamonds. Think of lighthouses at dusk and let it all sand you down like beach glass. Then, the words will come easy and constant, like the tides.

Scorpio: Take every step away from claustrophobia, even in the smallest ways. Turn left instead of right at the end of the driveway when the neighborhood is getting to be a bit much. Switch everything off or do the opposite. Drive with the windows down and Janelle Monáe blasting: “Don’t try to take my country, I will defend my land. I’m not crazy, baby, I’m American.” Crazy is a reasonable response after all of these days and weeks and months and years. Find a way to get it out on paper or just into the sweet air.

Sagittarius: Welcome any friends who wander in, even other people’s cats who jump in through the shoddy screen door. As the evil White House fences are transformed by lovely humans into bare-heart art galleries, what boundaries can you neglect or transform?  You’re becoming porous, like fence wire, like art, like the way leaves breathe, like light through the forest ceiling. See what sustaining thing filters through. See what small, dappled light you can hold in your hand.

Capricorn: You’re crossing the country now for home. You’ll see mountains that seem much closer than they are because they’re so big. You’ll see light sparking and crackling from the edges of fire. You’ll see pretty treed slopes and maybe a little weird June snow. You’ll see streams, rivers, lakes, and fountains teeming with the discarded statues of imperialists—you know, regular stuff. You’ll see mysterious new monuments engraved with future instructions. Drink plenty of water, turn the radio up loud, and get ready for tomorrow to welcome you.

Aquarius: Think about Yayoi Kusama, how meticulously she paints dots and dots and dots, how deftly she makes all those mirrors repeat, how sad she was when some museum wouldn’t let her give away parts of her own installation. Think of the devotees lined up to look at new configurations of light and color, to spend thirty seconds or a minute with these new refractions of themselves. You can refract like that, but a million mirrors more! Everyone says so!

Pisces:  Ethylene is the chemical that helps apples ripen and then spoil. It’s a gas that spreads, that’s why one bad apple spoils the whole barrel. (#defundthepolice) You are ripening, but you are also the opposite of ethylene, breathing newness and growth into everything. Dig up the ground of yourself and plant something new, turn decay into fresh roses, fresh strawberries, fresh sunflowers reaching skyward. Here is a hoe.

Poetic License Horoscope for June 8-14

Gemini: This week, in ways large and small, be like Mayor Muriel Bowser. With Washington D.C. under military occupation, she still found a way to make Black Lives Matter Plaza happen right in front of the White House. Your installations may not be as big or as resourced, but you can be a monument to justice, peace, beauty, and strength every day. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Cancer: It’s not that we birdwatchers (What? Stars can be birdwatchers!) hate leashless dogs! It’s message that their owners are sending: “Your bodily autonomy, your freedom, your safety, the birds’ homes, none of these things matter much as this animal I live vicariously through, this hapless, jumping thing that poops outside because I can’t.” Cancer, you’re the opposite of these folks: careful, deliberate, kind in the right direction, as you face the open wild or just the neighborhood woods.

Leo: The stars support your quest to curate your feeds, to weed out the racists or those who hate science or those who would stand on capitol steps with guns to fight for the right to murder us all with their breath. You know what’s on the other side of the silo, why wouldn’t you? Start thinking of estrangement as social divestment—some people just don’t deserve you.

Virgo: “How often have we heard you say that everything is futile, that nothing comes of all your labors?  Yet like amorphous buds, you endeavors sprout in all directions. You see everything as formless and you forget that this is a sign of life.” Hilma Af Klint. You’ve planted 1,500 morning glory seeds, but feel free to plant more. It’s all coming up, we promise.

Libra: The pieces of the portrait you’ve been working on so LONG are falling into place. Soon, you’ll see those kind eyes again, that shining, lucid heart. Spread out your love on the table like one hundred glitter gel pens and exclaim, exclaim, EXCLAIM about the sparkles. I can’t wait to see the whole of the angel’s magic face.

Scorpio: There’s a riot in your belly and that’s perfectly okay. According to alchemists, “vitriol” is an acronym for “Visita Inerriora Terrae Rectifcando Invenies Occultum Lapidum.” That means “By visiting the center of earth, you will find the Philosopher’s Stone.” Get a stick and poke around at the fires inside you, see what shapes appear in the flames.

Sagittarius: My neighbor buys flowers for herself every Sunday. She says that when she did this at the beginning of quarantine, back when we were all just hoarding Purell, the people in line at the co-op got annoyed with her, but it’s not their business what she finds necessary to her survival. No matter what letters there are to write, how many marches on your protest dance card, what weeping is forced upon you, set an alarm to got get yourself something beautiful. The stars are so glad you exist.

  Capricorn: The stars are sorry to both you and Rory Gilmore that we can’t do a thing about the whole humidity thing. Instead, we suggest watching the movie Adult World, set in our hometown of Syracuse, NY. That way, you can cool off watching a whole bunch of snow in our old neighborhood! Plus, you’ll get to see John Cusack go to Recess Coffee! That’s something, right?

Aquarius: Good work will come soon enough, we promise. For now, take to your bed like John and Yoko. Hold meetings, Be-Ins, singalongs, or cuddle parties, or all these at once. Invite the comforter to facilitate. Ask every pillow her opinion, and if it’s okay that you hug her. Count your audience of sleep masks, scandalous night-books, fancy lotions. Be very, VERY thorough.

Pisces: Thank the planets that are leaving your orbit, or just decisively swipe left. You don’t need a reason, just blow them away like dandelion fluff. You can build altars to them out of candles and spangles. Glitter bomb the places in your body and heart where long- or new-lost friends reside. It’s okay if you’re feeling scared and alone. The stars are with you, no matter what.

Aries: This week in the stars’ neighborhood, a group of six young people planned a protest in 48 hours. They hoped about fifty people would come, but it turned out to be over a thousand. Every step and turn of our “Whose streets? Our streets!” route was decorated with sacred names and cases of water. This was a miracle and also a privilege: Downtown, my friends were still facing violent police and the National Guard. Build everything you can, Aries, and don’t take a bit of it for granted.

Taurus: The stars are profoundly sorry that we forgot you the other week! Here’s what’s in your Apology Basket: Milk to wash away teargas. Spangles for all of your placards. Friends with ears that listen. One flower for every emotion in your heart, at any given minute. Scattered and prolific petals. Bearable heat. Every smell of candle you love. A reminder to drink enough water. The promise that we still know you’re a prism.

Poetic Licence Horoscope for June 1-7

(Maybe next week the stars will feel like being comforting?)

All of the Signs: In honor of and in mourning for Breonna Taylor, who was murdered by police in her home, please go to the Say Her Name website (https://aapf.org/shn-campaign) and

1.      Learn the stories.

2.      Believe the stories.

3.      Speak up for the stories.

4.      Say the names.

Poetic License Horoscopes (May 25-31)

Gemini: You know who’s excited about quarantine!? Well, excited is probably the wrong word but BOREDOM RESEARCHERS! https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/the-natural-experiment/ Join their experiments. See what’s going on with your old friend Boredom. Doodle around the edges of it. Build a shrine of pushpins and binder clips. Burn looseleaf as sage. Sit until you turn into cloudscapes, until your breath and your voice stop feeling like weapons. It’s a peace you deserve.

Cancer: Last Thursday night while Shamanic Journeying via Zoom, (Like one does.) the stars were dragged Blair Witch style into a dark wood shining only with fluorescent blue leaves. Plants are sometimes the only kind of touching, aren’t they? The only hint of life? The big leaves were both warm and cool to the touch, shifting colors because they were a dream. Curl up in those dark dream leaves until some helping creature arrives to lead you to a bright meadow.

Leo:   As the person who built an Aurora Borealis/ the door from Russian Doll out of tissue paper and LED lights, you can accomplish most things. Step one: Learn all the names of the flowers before you graduate to fungus, grasses, butterflies, and birds. String up the prettiest names like lights, make your gardens like lights, make the petals like lights too, why not? Delphinium, pulmonaria, kalanchoe, whatever names feel best, say them like prayers.

Virgo: “The sky over the city has too much light, baby. You can see the stars a little but you gotta work for them.” N.K. Jemesin, The City We Became. What pulses in the city of you, now without the thrum and crush of your commute? Now that you’re not being honked at so often when you hesitate for a nanosecond at green lights. Now that you’re commercial-free, where are the new gaps? See if you can hear it, or better yet, hold out your hands to the sky and wait to be touched.

Libra: A long walk in the woods, if you can. Not on the weekend, that would be nuts. It’s okay if the walk’s in your mind, or on watercolor paper. If you can’t ride your bike along the rivers and creeks or dance in a crowd under a big bridge any time soon, what then? Can you listen to those gentle studying songs until you sleep new lessons? Can you, very carefully, twist ropes into wings? The stars are sending new ways for you to sit in the sun and every puzzle you can hold in your two warm hands for hope.

Scorpio: Like everyone (Well, not everyone.) you are a business rebuilding, a Festival Girl whose travels have paused. Be even more than usual the stars’ favorite palindrome: drawn inward. Your imagination will grow forests and populate seas. Make your Tolkein-maps of undiscovered realms. Your mantra for now is here be dragons. It’s okay if you don’t yet see the treasure underneath.

Sagittarius: You’re a library. And the head librarian of that library. Ask the Front Desk (also you) where the Mystical Experience section is. Turn left at the card catalog of Conversations Your Barbies had, head past the Disco Songs Your Mom Used to Sing. The Special Collection is showing the archives from the Museum of Bad Advice, but don’t sign in there just yet—you just washed your hands. Check out as many items as you’d like, the City of You has changed its overdue policy.

Capricorn: If there’s one thing that (dear but un-re-watchable) Friends got right about the Nineties, its how much every day turned on the axis of coffee. Tired from doing not-very-much until sunrise or from a young, walloping misunderstanding of the proportions of a gin and tonic, we would migrate to our (way more rewatchable!) friends in basements, on porches, in just-barely-bookstores. We can’t do most of that right now, but: A porch, a cup of good coffee, a Sunday you feel ambivalent about, a dear friend, and peace.

Aquarius: As much as the stars are OBSESSED with Marie Kondo, there really is no one right way to clean a basement. If you want to go scorched-earth and pitch it all out, go ahead, the stars won’t tell anyone. If you want to lovingly turn over every document, write a sonnet to every shred of ephemera, every errant leaflet, go ahead, why not? It’s your basement, and even if it isn’t, too bad, you’re the one doing the work. Go down the steps and start.

Pisces: Every classroom you’ve even been in, teaching or learning, home or away, LOVES you. Each one keeps like love letters the maps you’ve drawn of them, the spreadsheets, the procedures, the hand-written signs. Buildings know how to love all-encompassingly and so do teachers, so do students. The windows are open to the summer breeze. The sun is giddily shattering concentration and helping the houseplants to feed themselves. The pencils are all sharpened, the dry-erase markers are fresh and multicolored. These things remember, and so do you.

Aries: Get caught in the rain without worrying that your phone will catch a raindrop. There will be no need to sleep overnight in rice. You have a blowdryer and towels if you need them. Loosen your mask before it starts to feel like drowning. If, once you’re inside again reading with your coffee, the sun comes out, you don’t even have to get up and look outside for the rainbow. The rainbow will come to you.