Lyrical Interlude

Time for a Tenderness Break

Dear Readers —

In this week’s newsletter, I’m offering you the Free Will Astrology horoscopes as usual, plus poems from my upcoming book. Hope they provide you with relaxing inspiration!

Love,

Rob

WHO WE ARE TOGETHER
 
We are swoons of buttery light the moon scatters on the creek mud at low tide, and we are the parade of five fiddler crabs who worship the luminous shadows
 
We are black trumpet mushrooms feasting on dead oak and beech leaves, and we love flinging millions of spores out on the genius wind
 
We are the midwife and doula collaborating to aerate a newborn’s fluid-filled lungs with rescue breaths
 
We are grasshoppers bounding like generous death eaters to devour a bee caught in an unraveled spider web
 
We are silver-haired bats warbling bliss songs as we careen free of our underworld cave, an abandoned uranium mine
 
We are the November dusk fog that a seven-year-old with chattering teeth gets lost in on the way home
 
We are midnight in late summer echoing with the hilarious yowls of coyotes convened amidst the eucalyptus trees 
 
We are the glint of icicles drooping from a fungus-besieged pine tree, and we are the pine tree and the fungus, too
 
We are the dust cloud at the heart of the Milky Way, and we taste like raspberries and smell like rum
 
We are white-throated, white-bellied swifts that drink, eat, sleep, and copulate as we fly
 
We are a broken necklace of gold South Sea pearls fallen behind an antique dresser made from Yucatan mahogany.  
 
We are the aromas of parched central Nebraska loam as it's drenched with summer rain
 
We are a half-eaten jelly doughnut in the rusty dumpster behind the homeless shelter in Petaluma, and we are grazed with the pulp of a wormy tomato
 
We are the memories of the 61-year-old elephant dying of starvation because her last of six sets of teeth have worn down and can no longer chew
 
We are a clingstone peach on a tree, and we are perfectly ripe to eat right now
 
Why? 
 
Because we are nimble with good cheer
Because we are in love with color and sound
Because we obeyed the orders of our raucous hearts 
Because we changed and changed and changed
until we couldn't stop, didn't want to stop changing
 
And now we are alive everywhere and everywhen

IN THIS HOUSE  
 
In this house filled 
with the golden dust of skin
 
In this house bordering the creek 
whose Indigenous name is lost
 
In this house made of the omnipotent sun 
and the smoothly disruptive wind
 
In this house born 
from the love of two death muses 
healing each other
of civilization’s suicide
 
In this house praised 
by ever-fresh moonlight 
and its luminous boulders
 
In this house blessed by
the two goldfinches
swooping in through one window
and gliding out through another
on the morning after
we dreamed we were goldfinches
 
In this house 
where five imaginary summer drought wildfires
have kept us warm and unburned
in an endless daybreak of emergency gratitude
 
In this house 
lifted up and swaddled
by the earth’s breathing
 
In this house remembered by the songs
of those who will live here after us
 
In this house 
made from the unfathomable clouds
loaned to us 
by grebes, cormorants, egrets, and herons
 
We celebrate 
the zigzag flow of the marshy water
and the meandering shimmer 
of the crooked rainbows
and the rambling plucks 
of the hungry sandpipers
and the twisty coos 
of the clapper rails 
sequestered in the reeds
 
We bless the teachings
of the winter’s rainy floods
and the summer’s magnanimous 
reflections of scorching sky 
in tender creek water
and the spring’s ducks
quacking madly at 3 am
and the fall’s dying reeds
giving us majestic 
shades of brilliant brown
 
+
 
To this house made of strong deep light
we invite more strong deep light.
 
May it well up 
and pour in 
from Everywhere and Everywhen:
 
from the singing stars 
that the secret night hides,
 
from the gently relentless tides 
that never stop transforming our feelings 
into blends of fresh water and salt,
 
from the grunting, squealing raccoons 
plucking ripe peaches from our trees
and sneaking into our dreams
as toy monsters
 
from the knowing glances 
of the two storks
that fly by every sundown
returning to the night perch
in their forever-honeymoon tree.
 
from the pickleweed succulents 
that look so delicious
blooming from the salty mud
 
from all the mouths 
in this world and the next
that love to speak 
the holy word "estuary"
 
and even from the rustle 
of invasive eucalyptus trees
rattling the horizon
 
To this house made of strong deep light
we invite more strong deep light.
 
May it well up and pour in
from Everywhere and Everywhen

HONEYED TANG

a honeyed tang arrives
a consoling gusto
a dreamy grace
 
as if consigned to our care
for a brief embrace
not to be cradled or hoarded
 
only redeemed for a glimpse
of how much fun it is
to be alive
 
and then released
so it might rejoin
the shadows
from which it sprung
 
We’re not mad
it can't stay forever
not sad it may have
roosted in desolate welcome
or marinated in wild grief
on its way to us
 
are only grateful
it chose us
for a while

EARTH'S REAL GODS

We pray to the ancestors with their medicine stories
We pray to the descendants with their elixir riddles
We pray to the tale-tellers alive now
who subterfuge their way free
of the dead news 
that numbs and pounds and sickens

We pray that they will reforge us
into magnets
for visions of unbuyable wonder
and dreams of empathetic rapture
and fables from beyond the chemical brain

May they craft us
into sweet and ferocious vessels for creation myths
that are alive with mist and smoke and whispers
unknown to the Internet

May they massage us
into blissful messes of receptivity
so we can always detect
the dramas and comedies and parables
owned by the solar system
and copyrighted by eternity

+

We pray to the talking animals 
who prophesy lucky storms

We pray to the chroniclers
who rebirth the killed history
of ignored geniuses

We pray to the narrators
who remember the stolen memories
of Indigenous superstars

We pray to the shadow journalists
who track down
the taboo conversations
that women and children
have explored
in the middle of the night
for the last 4,000 years

We pray to the compassionate liars
who disinter insurrectionary enchantments
and restore their dazzling dark joy

May those agitators
and awakeners
and animators
mark us with signs
that our creature teachers
will recognize
in the propaganda-free future

May they infuse us
with resurrected confusions
that sensitize us
to the prematurely solved mysteries
that we need to crack open again

May they make it easy
for the panacea beasts,
the talking animals,
the earth's real gods,
to welcome us as their own

WASH SOME WATER AND BURN SOME FIRE

Exaggerate our flaws till they turn into virtues
Pretend our wounds are exotic tattoos
Refuse the gifts that infringe on our freedom
Shun sacred places that fill us with boredom

Keep in mind it's bad luck to be superstitious
The official story is always fictitious
Pump up our karma with idiot laughter
The promised land's here, not in some hereafter

	We are searching for the answers
	so we can destroy them 
	and dream up better questions

Use our third eyes to watch TV
Sing anarchist lullabies to lesbian trees
Think with our hearts and feel with our heads
Spit a mouthful of beer as far as we can

Kick our own asses and wash our own brains
Make fun of our fears and trick our own pain
Play games with no rules, save our own lives
Prick our own dogmas and be our own wives

	We are searching for excuses
	so we can destroy them 
	and dream up better motives

Plunge butcher knives into images of guns
Forgive ourselves for all our mistakes except one
Commit funny crimes that don't break any laws
Shock ourselves with how beautiful we are.

Tell jokes to clowns and cook feasts for chefs
Sing songs to the birds, and kill our own deaths
Mangle our anger, transform it to pleasure
Change our names daily, steal our own treasure

	We are searching for the reasons
	so we can destroy them 
	and dream up better mysteries

Play jokes on our nightmares, delight in wild beauty
Turn tragic to magic and make bliss our duty.
We're so far beyond lazy we labor like gods.
We're lucidly crazy—in fact, that's our job.

	Go wash some water
	Mock your own hypocrisy

	Go burn some fire
	Brag about your perplexity

	Go wash some water
	Advertise your secrecy

	Go burn some fire
	Overthrow reality

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HOW CAN I EARN YOUR PAID SUBSCRIPTION?

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FREE WILL ASTROLOGY
For the Week of September 12

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Peregrine falcons can move at a speed of 242 miles per hour. Mexican free-tailed bats reach 100 miles per hour, and black marlin fish go 80 mph. These animals are your spirit creatures in the coming weeks, Virgo. Although you can’t literally travel that fast (unless you’re on a jet), I am confident you can make metaphorical progress at a rapid rate. Your ability to transition into the next chapter of your life story will be at a peak. You will have a robust power to change, shift, and develop.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Mythically speaking, I envision a death and rebirth in your future. The death won’t be literal; neither you nor anyone you love will travel to the other side of the veil. Rather, I foresee the demise of a hope, the finale of a storyline, or the loss of a possibility. Feeling sad might temporarily be the right thing to do, but I want you to know that this ending will ultimately lead to a fresh beginning. In fact, the new blooms ahead wouldn’t be possible without the expiration of the old ways. The novel resources that arrive will come only because an old resource has faded.

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Did you ever have roommates who stole your credit card and used it to buy gifts for themselves? Does your history include a friend or loved one who told you a lie that turned out to be hurtful? Did you ever get cheated on by a lover you trusted? If anything like this has happened to you, I suspect you will soon get a karmic recompense. An atonement will unfold. A reparation will come your way. A wrong will be righted. A loss will be indemnified. My advice is to welcome the redress graciously. Use it to dissolve your resentments and retire uncomfortable parts of your past.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): One of my oldest friends is Sagittarius-born Jeffrey Brown. We had rowdy fun together in our twenties. We were mad poets who loved to party. But while I went on to become an unruly rock and roll musician, experimental novelist, and iconoclastic astrologer, Brown worked hard to become a highly respected, award-winning journalist for the *PBS News Hour*, a major American TV show. Among his many successes: He has brought in-depth coverage of poetry and art to mainstream TV. How did he manage to pull off such an unlikely coup? I think it's because he channeled his wildness into disciplined expression; he converted his raw passions into practical power; he honed and refined his creativity so it wielded great clout. In the coming months, dear Sagittarius, I urge you to make him one of your inspirational role models.

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Let's hypothesize that you will be alive, alert, and active on your hundredth birthday. If that joyous event comes to pass, you may have strong ideas about why you have achieved such marvelous longevity. I invite you to imagine what you will tell people on that momentous occasion. Which practices, feelings, and attitudes will have turned you into such a vigorous example of a strong human life? The coming weeks will be an excellent time to meditate on these matters. It will also be a favorable phase to explore new practices, feelings, and attitudes that will prolong your satisfying time here on planet Earth.

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Few Americans are more famous than George Washington. He was a top military leader in the Revolutionary War before he became the country's first president. George had a half-brother named Lawrence, who was 16 years older. Virtually no one knows about him now, but during his life, he was a renowned landowner, soldier, and politician. Historians say that his political influence was crucial in George's rise to power. Is there anyone remotely comparable to Lawrence Washington in your life, Aquarius? Someone who is your advocate? Who works behind the scenes on your behalf? If not, go searching for them. The astrological omens say your chances are better than usual of finding such champions. If there are people like that, ask them for a special favor.

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PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Over 15 centuries ago, Christian monks decided Fridays were unlucky. Why? Because they were the special day of the pagan Goddess Freya. Friday the 13th was extra afflicted, they believed, because it combined a supposedly evil number with the inauspicious day. And how did they get their opinion that 13 was malevolent? Because it was the holy number of the Goddess and her 13-month lunar calendar. I mention this because a Friday the 13^th is now upon us. If you are afraid of the things Christian monks once feared, this could be a difficult time. But if you celebrate radical empathy, ingenious intimacy, playful eros, and fertile intuition, you will be awash in good fortune. That’s what the astrological omens tell me.

ARIES (March 21-April 19): One of the longest bridges in the world is the 24-mile-long Pontchartrain Causeway in Louisiana. During one eight-mile stretch, as it crosses Lake Pontchartrain, travelers can't see land. That freaks out some of them. You might be experiencing a metaphorically similar passage these days, Aries. As you journey from one mode to the next, you may lose sight of familiar terrain for a while. My advice: Have faith, gaze straight ahead, and keep going.

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): My horoscopes don't necessarily answer questions that are foremost in your awareness. This might annoy you. But consider this: My horoscopes may nevertheless nudge you in unexpected directions that eventually lead you, in seemingly roundabout ways, to useful answers. The riddles I offer may stir you to gather novel experiences you didn’t realize you needed. Keep this in mind, Taurus, while reading the following: In the coming weeks, you can attract minor miracles and fun breakthroughs if you treat your life as an art project. I urge you to fully activate your imagination and ingenuity as you work on the creative masterpiece that is YOU.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): The Gemini musician known as Prince got an early start on his vocation. At age 7, he wrote “Funk Machine,” his first song. Have you thought recently about how the passions of your adult life first appeared in childhood? Now is an excellent time to ruminate on this and related subjects. Why? Because you are primed to discover forgotten feelings and events that could inspire you going forward. To nurture the future, draw on the past.

CANCER (June 21-July 22): You are lucky to have an opposable thumb on each of your hands. You're not as lucky as koala bears, however, which have two opposable thumbs on each hand. But in the coming weeks, you may sometimes feel like you have extra thumbs, at least metaphorically. I suspect you will be extra dexterous and nimble in every way, including mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. You could accomplish wonders of agility. You and your sexy soul may be extra supple, lithe, and flexible. These superpowers will serve you well if you decide to improvise and experiment, which I hope you will.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): The internet is filled with wise quotes that are wrongly attributed. Among those frequently cited as saying words they didn't actually say, Buddha is at the top of the list. There are so many fraudulent Buddha quotes in circulation that there's a website devoted to tracking them down: fakebuddhaquotes.com. Here's an example. The following statement was articulated not by Buddha but by English novelist William Makepeace Thackeray: “The world is a looking glass. It gives back to every man a true reflection of his own thoughts.” I bring these thoughts to your attention, Leo, because it’s a crucial time for you to be dedicated to truth and accuracy. You will gain power by uncovering deceptions, shams, and misrepresentations. Be a beacon of authenticity!

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