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.
__________________________________




4/30/09

4/28/09

CRUEL SACRAMENT

first blood on
fallen shards of
moon just because
you're young and
must suck the clit
eventually like
scabs wishing on
a scar that is so
perfect years later
even her fingers are
going to remember

4/27/09

Poetic Justice

drinking pulque through
a torn hoary
mask would

look funny in an obsidian
mirror but the
20th Century Fox

died of AIDS years ago
so our dance is over
and I'll just

warm these tortillas
on the manifold
of my disappearing

Pontiac near the
last exit
to Xochimilco

where Sal Paradise
once spit out bennies
like broken teeth

4/25/09

Let Me Down Real Slow

on the palm-lined
street of a PlayStation 2
game your pastel
bungalow blares forth the
telling screams of
virtual unreality when
her stomach bile
green eyes tell you that
she's lying again




GHETTO TERRARIUMS



who gives a fuck


and who doesn't




4/20/09

PHILIP WHALEN MEMORIAL .357

I live here for 24 years
fighting and fucking Indians
and some cocksucker from
Calif. turns me in for an
outhouse and not having a
proper septic and I get the
letter from Klamath county
explaining what I got to do
or my family hits those red
cinders so I send out the
proverbial poor me begging
letter and my one saint
patron comes through as
always but the famous-archive-
25-medical-patent-holding-
motherfucking doctor in
Miami who has my poems
under glass sends only $50
even though the book I sent
with the request was $10 and
that's cool it's beer money
but now what's beautiful is I
also apply to Poets In Need
there in Berkeley run by poets
who wouldn't piss on me if it
made me smell better and they
send over a $2,000 grant in the
name of the great Philip W. and
with that and what the saint
sent I pay back taxes get my
permits and the test holes dug
to hold them off a little longer
and all the change goes to buying
this soothing 2" snubbie pistol
a poor man's insurance policy
because I'm still lacking the
other $8,000 the system will
cost and now it's all up to a USDA
rural development section 504
loan or face that street where
the shit always runs downhill
beer warm beer a warm beer at six
six in the morning the morning
after the balls those balls
slap ass her ass means it's monday
monday again and
the hangover another
hangover has yet
to kick in kick in in

4/15/09

Ascension

Jesus Christ wasn't
Jesus Christ until
he became John
Coltrane.

4/14/09

WHITE HOUSE DOG

1.

genitals
as a marker

2.

faith in
loaded guns

4/10/09

In Search Of A Definition

"In a real dark
night of the soul,"
observed F. Scott
Fitzgerald, "it is
always three o'clock
in the morning."

4/8/09

Language Arts

All smiles behind
the duct tape.

4/5/09

Looter Eye Shadow

Shot with a price
tag gun because
she plundered time.