Hailey Leithauser

Lush & Fair-Flung
September 25, 2021 Leithauser Hailey

Lush

You’re thinking of drunks,
I’m thinking of pale
pink, slippery comforters;
you’re thinking of
souses, I’m dreaming a top
sheet of 10,000 count.
You mention cirrhosis,
I answer with feathers
and cashmere and faux
fur so truthful my guests
take offense.
You’re on about tosspots;
I’m musing on Hollandaise,
a peppery Bernaise.
You’re thinking, your
one thought, of tipplers
and dipsos, bums
in their Bowery; I’m
remembering, as if it
were yesterday, a driblet
of whipped cream slid
warm off a nipple.
Your inference is rot-gut.
Your reference is red-eye.
You’re thinking of whiskey,
I’m speaking of wine.

 

Fair-Flung

Not far, which
could be
unjust (the left
half of a pair
of kid gloves
en route to the Pole
while the right
hand half
lingers
at the Equator)
but fair, as
in a stocking-foot
woman leant
loose against
a long hall-
way wall
with one red,
drunken pump
tossed on top
of a pillow
and equidistant
the other
catching the light
on the dining
room table.

Hailey Leithauser’s books are SWOOP (2013) and SAINT WORM (2019)  She has recent or forthcoming work in 32 Poems, Agni, Alaska Quarterly Review, Birmingham Poetry Review and other journals.