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.
__________________________________




8/2/10

Owl Dance

years ago I took my
Paiute girlfriend and
her kids to the pow
wow over there at
the Stronghold
where Captain Jack
pissed all over what
back then was an even
more uptight white
America with their
grace and Christian
revulsion ending in
the Modoc War and
the parading of his
severed head around
the country in a jar of
formaldehyde but at
least the badass
motherfucker had
popped a cap into the
skull of a U.S. General
and that's the kind of
shit that I can get into
so anyway me and the
old lady were pretty
hungover and she was
dealing with the kids
and I was sitting on a
stump four rows back
into the crowd staring
at the ground and they
had called an Owl Dance
and the next thing I
know I'm staring at a
pair of beaded moccasins
and I look up at this
beautiful Indian girl about
13-years-old in a buckskin
dress who just chose me to
dance with her and she's
motioning to me to let's
go and I was too fucking
sick and I told her baby
girl I can't I can't and
she was adamant but I
couldn't do it no way and
that's a major insult so
she started crying and
ran off into her mother's
arms way across the field
and that might be one
of the only times I ever
felt shitty about being a
drunk but it's funny I
still kept on drinking