THE FOLLOWING BOOKS
WERE PUBLISHED WITH
WORK OFF OF THIS BLOG!!!!




FOR MORE INFO ON HAPPY HOUR
AND HOW TO ORDER, CLICK HERE:

http://lokidesign.net/2356/2010/11/four-minutes-to-midnight-issue-eleven%E2%80%94happy-hour/

"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..."
-John Bennett



A new EBOOK!
FREE DOWNLOAD!
CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO:
http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/pesticide-drift/9128215



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."
-GERALD NICOSIA



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
fucking around."
-Patrick Dunagan,
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.
__________________________________




2/22/08

The World Is My Toilet

used to be I'd go visit
this old white dude out
back here in the hills
and we'd drink Oly and
cheap whiskey and I'd
watch him carve these
beautiful Kachina dolls
out of wood and then
decorate them with
rabbit fur and bright
paint and you couldn't
tell the difference even
if you were standing on
the side of the road near
Four Corners I dug his
whole scene we all called
him Hazmat and that was
good enough for him
we'd sit drink and swat
flies in the heat for hours
one time I had the runny
alcoholic shits and asked
him where the crapper
was and he got up and
walked over to a tree and
brought back this folding
aluminum lawn chair with
the bottom webbing torn
out that now had a toilet
seat attached to it with
baling wire go anywhere
you want he told me the
world is my toilet and so
I did a few times then
another day I came over
and he was at his table
with a gallon glass jar
setting on it that contained
three large turds being
swarmed by a hundred
flies I shit in this jar and
now I have no flies and
when I go to bed I just
screw on the lid he
explained and I must admit
it worked damned sweet
well not too long after that
another drunk told me they
had put Hazmat in a rest
home somewhere and how
it was pretty fucked up
because all of his stuff was
still sitting out there in the
woods I did think about
going to get that lawn chair
then but I kept on drinking