"To tell you the truth, I'm pretty burned out
on meat poetry or street poetry or poetry of
the down-and-out, whatever you want to call
it, because so much of it is bullshit; either bogus
motherfuckers who never shed blood but
insinuate themselves into the lives of those
who have and then make a name for themselves
by writing generic imitations, or a bunch of
middle-class kids still living at home talking
tough, aping Bukowski, Wantling, levy, Micheline...
but HAPPY HOUR is the real thing. Stark precision.
It's stripped down, bare bones authentic.
You be the real McCoy, amigo..."
DRINKING & THINKING FROM BLUE PRESS, SANTA CRUZ, CA. 2010 "For a while, now, outside of
what you/ve been doing
outside Klamath Falls and what
Todd Moore was doing outside
Albuquerque, not much
integrity married to the inside
dope of the poetic imagination
as far as my jaded view
has been concerned."
-Michael C. Ford
SOMEONE WHO LOVED YOU From 48th Street Press, Philadelphia, PA. 2010 "SOMEONE WHO LOVED YOU
is simply a great piece of work."
TASTE THE From If Year Books, Brooklyn, N.Y. 2009 "A cool little scrabble of
fugitive pieces, some
handwritten, some paste-
ups, all laid in like a scrapbook
miscellany with mean teeth."
-Kevin Opstedal, Ukulele Feedback
DON'T SAY A WORD From Blue Press, Santa Cruz, CA. 2008 "F. A. Nettelbeck isn't
galatea resurrects #9
Signed copies are $10 each, plus $2 postage and handling... checks payable to F. A. Nettelbeck, POB 69, Beatty, OR 97621 U.S.A. __________________________________
sweet sweet Kenton lost at LAX needle in arm truck running my brother I remember you on reds fucking pissed you fucked up your sister my girlfriend so so like all those days at 58th and Slauson I told you fucking leave her alone but that was youth man I LOVED YOUR SISTER you fucking prick you knew that so fuck it all that violence is better than sex so so sex is violence but with brothers that is weird shit man the stories I could tell on you how you ripped off that Chinese joint in Redondo Beach you on the phone "you fuckers hungry?" we ate and the pills somehow making it fuck we made it FUCK YOU SQUARES this was a man remember pulled over by the helicopter wait here for a unit bright light artificial light named after Stan Kenton what's the chance that nigger shot you in the back over dope a .22 and deep there in your spine they didn't want to remove it so you go to Stanley's one hill over from the Spahn Ranch catch a rattler and back in Inglewood throw it in that nigger's car after cutting off the rattle sirens in that science fiction morning hey fucks you relatives you who live on ___________ wanna talk shit fuck you bright white motherfucker offed your punk black assed fool but that's history we live we die and death not ends it sentences are there to be read for Kenton all these years later