Warning: A stark poem on the gruesome murder of Addie Hall





Something than which nothing greater can be thought

so truly exists

that it is not possible to think of it as not existing.

–Anselm of Aosta


Saint Anselm and the Murder of Addie Hall
in New Orleans on October 5, 2006



Unbelievable, overwhelmingly sad
and shocking, to kill Addie Hall, have sex with
her body, chop her up in the tub, place her
torso in the refrigerator, cook her

arms and legs seasoned in the oven, her head
boiling until unrecognizable on
the stove top, while vegetables are prepared on
the countertop, in the apartment the two

shared in the French Quarter; to ultimately
shift to Plan B, take the last fifteen hundred
dollars and go on a two-week partying
spree of buddies, booze, and women in strip joints:

the unthinkable, which begs us to ask if
such a crime could be part of us on this earth.


Is it so great a crime that it is itself
the God of love crimes? No other greater, more
perfect, more incomprehensible? Do we
not then prove or disprove it to ourselves as

Anselm tried to for God? God, will we not know
it happened, when it is both conceivable
and possible to us? Maybe she is still
alive: but not violated, dismembered,

and cooked. Instead we find her killer leaped to
his death, a confession in his pocket. He
murdered her, the poet and dancer, who met
and loved him in Katrina’s aftermath. She

insisted he move out of her apartment
over the voodoo shop. He had not been true.


Our God of love crimes is true, but this is not
the perfect crime. She was not disposed of piece
by seasoned piece, nightly with the tossed salad,
as if in unfinished meals, her poetic

head, lover’s heart, artist’s hands and dancer’s legs,
all of her unrecognizable even
as a human body and especially
as the Adriane Hall, traceable to North

Carolina, who moved to New Orleans four
years earlier. Neither could the hauntingly
greater crime, with its full cannibalistic
possession of the lover, come to complete

fruition. Plan B had to be used. He thought
he could pay with his life. But it was Addie’s.



November 18, 2006



Here is a story that touches on how Addie Hall stayed in New Orleans during Katrina:

The New York Times: Holdouts on Dry Ground Say, ‘Why Leave Now?’

Here is one on her murder:

The Times Picayune: Katrina survivalist’s descent into madness



One response to “Warning: A stark poem on the gruesome murder of Addie Hall”

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