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.
__________________________________




2/27/10

Don't Touch This Poem And Nobody Gets Hurt

Burroughs was
twice the man
Bukowski ever
thought himself
to be & men die

2/26/10

ABOUT LIFE

forgotten passwords,
fuck me hard

"we lose our
appetite for God"

2/19/10

Next Life

airplanes into
buildings
into towering
flames into
raw video into
live feeds
into a next life

2/18/10

BULLFROG BLUES

Jim Morrison's
favorite band
and Rolling Rock
painted label
longnecks still
don't mean
we're going to
live forever.

2/14/10

INSENSIBLE VALENTINE

Mr. Spermatozoon
will dance for you.

2/11/10

Outlaw Poetry

Pablo Neruda's books
are usually next to
my books if they had
any of my books in
a bookstore near you

2/10/10

VOICE-OVER

landfills full of
cellular phones

"to one far away"

2/8/10

The View From Inside a 1968 Jim Beam Arizona The Grand Canyon State Commemorative Bottle

dissect the whisper and it could
be all of your dreams come true
with one last quarter in hand to
see an emaciated coyote trick you
into humanity there behind grey
black chicken wire holding back a
beer piss because 5 minutes later
when you do whip it out to relieve
yourself behind the weathered
plywood HERE IT IS sign it'll
smell like last night's dank pussy
and you'll have to pretend you
still have such a long ways to go

2/4/10

BIRTH

on Kevin the Opstedal's 54th

birth is being torn by the roots
from a cloud of squid then thrown
into a stainless steel bowl of cherries
where inadequate conversations
sound too much like the sexually
transmitted literature of common
men who never quite realize there
will be no services for the next 75
years give or take a few bad miles
through the churchgoer hospital
corridors all because a real poet left
the owner's manual out in the rain

2/1/10

It Makes No Difference

suicide may be painless if
you're cleaning that hunting
rifle a little too close to your
head but that's the pussy
way draw all the pain out first
from those who were fucked
over heart limb and soul their
only piece of ground a shoulder
on the littered lost highway
where biological children can't
even piss without getting a citation
torn out of pages from the book
that whoever touches shall never lie