I’m miffed with my astrologer She chimes month in, month out Start here, start here New day, new intentions, new life I want to believe I want to commence I want to stride forward and my feet stay put. My life is a tar baby The new moon in Aries, here we go again. Everything is before me: The boiling resolutions, evaporating troubles, it’s a message on a loop the great wheel of planet and stars kaleidoscopic, a forecast in fractals There are water weeds in the cosmic wading pool. My psyche drags me in by the hair. She says, take these gossamer wings of synchronicity and mishap. I put them on and fly lopsided as a battered Luna moth. Things out of place cling to my ankles like bad choices – I mean, lessons. They clutch my conscience – remoras riding a shark. She has advised sizing up the tangent of Saturn and Pluto, says, here is the axis mundi for the pink moon. I’m craving more human mo
Kinetic Poetry - Subject to change without warning.