anais vionet Poems

Peter, Charles and I were jetting our way to Paris. I'd just woken up. I had to pee so badly it woke me up. It was a medical emergency. I stretched and everything hurt, I felt like I was 30.

Peter was sitting next to me, on the aisle, reading. When he saw me stretch, he said, 'Hey sleepyhead.' Ok, I didn't actually hear him say it, we were all wearing noise canceling AirPods. I read his lips. I motioned that I needed to get up and he probably said 'sure, ' marking his place with his index finger and standing up in the aisle. I saw Charles watching us and I gave him a sleepy smile.
...

I want to say something about cursive writing (this might seem random) .

I've seen articles saying that cursive writing is a "dead art, " that computers have destined it for oblivion and questioning whether cursive writing should be taught in schools now-a-days.
...

I couldn't sleep. I was lying in bed watching the patterns reflected moonlight made on my ceiling when I heard the faint beep of the kitchen microwave. I smelled popcorn.

I decided to fill up my water bottle and see who was up. I slipped on a thick, terrycloth robe I'd gotten from Lisa last Christmas. It must weigh 15 pounds and it's so warm and heavy I seldom wear it.
...

The question is:
"Are people still collecting
memories, these days? "
...

Life is a series of demands. Hurry up, perform.
Do your homework, write a paper, oh and read 300 pages,
get in those volunteer hours, grab those lab credentials.
I get busy, caught up in projects and I forget stuff
...

I'm sporting this new lipstick
it won't fade, smudge or smear
I'll be lucky if it wears off this year.
...

A governess, a guardian of the young, so known and dear as to be called 'Mother' and a noblewoman, just barely 12 by age, named Portia, sit talking as the sun sets the stage for a cool, cloudless night.

'Mother, who invented candlelight and the slow, delicate brush of lips? '
'Some rakish boy, pawning his experience for present pleasure, no doubt.'
...

"You don't indulge in much self-reflection, do you? " Peter asked me.
"Are you asking about that time in Reno I shot a man just to watch him die? " I answered.

A poem from a friend (by Peter) :
...

It's both a bitter funeral for freedom
and the birth of new crime
...

Darkness has pressed up against our lattice windows. Classes start again in the morning. I'm being reabsorbed by college life. I'm a planner. I've been going over my syllabuses, repacking my bookbag, charging my power banks, checking and rechecking the assignments due tomorrow. After watching me prep for hours, Peter said, 'You're not going to the MOON.'

Peter asked me last Friday, 'Are you excited for Monday? (I'll find out if I get my fellowship.)
'I'm more excited about tonight, ' I said, 'I like going out on the town.'
...