The Ceremonies:

Literary projects by Courtney L. Hall

This Morning (When I Thought that Motorcycle was for Me)

I’m still getting other peoples’ mail:

in this new but familiar white space where all my time is being eaten.

The yelps of neighbor dogs and rattling carts of the street collectors keep my cats awake and keep my will afloat.

I am hungry but I will not eat. I will save these trivial things for later. I have coffee and books and these are my only intake

Dear Columbus:

I want our relationship to be different. But I know the secrets and the filth and there is no pink glass large enough to reclaim our innocence.

So in the haze of a half-hearted summer I will sit and meditate on things that are trivial; like eating.

And I will decide which thing is the lesser of my worries and submit to the boredom of life while looking.

Ripped finger-skins:

In my déjà vu
you were going to call me.

crowding my thought space
with your perfect cock.

In the times I’ve seen you since
You’ve been talking with my friends
that aren’t my friends anymore.

This is ok.
I am out
and grown
and fit.

I am a mess of smoke
and plastic furs.
I am flammable
but I am courageous.

I think of you fondly when
pretending to masturbate.

Untitled (Christmas Morning, 2013)

Good morning Court.
I feel strange, dreamt of you several times through the night.
I’ll call you today sometime.
I love you so much. Merry X-Mas