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.
__________________________________




8/31/09







ju
dgment






8/30/09

A Nigger For President

way back in the late 60's
when my peers encouraged
me to take drugs I'd go to
these parties and there'd be
all these Vietnam Vets
just fucking back beautiful
whacked out motherfuckers
still wearing the camo and
they'd tell me of some Armory
they ripped off and how it
was all going to come down
they would take over the
country with The Panthers
and don't worry don't worry
and I didn't really I was young
all ready with my 1-Y classification
and I'd hit that joint nodding my
head with those dope-vision-
eyeballs-of-cartoony-disbelief
but you know how it all turned
out John Lennon ruined the life
of a great American poet Yoko Ono
Jimi gargled his own fusty vomit
and Alan Wilson died along the
river of no tomorrow on a scuffed
up album cover so check this out
I get these young guys coming over
about once a week here now in my
twilight years telling me get your
shit together dude buy all the ammo
you can we got a nigger for president
the shit will come down but
it doesn't compare to the old days
although they do bring the beer that
crap they listen to ain't really country

8/29/09

IN THIS LIFE YOU WILL TOUCH EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T MATTER

absurdist entertainments

"that truth was
overrated"

8/24/09

1%

talked to Al Masarik today on the
phone in Sparks who is now suffering
the onset of Alzheimer's and dealing
with the VA people but he's hanging
in writing some damned beautiful short
stories about the experience and he told
me he heard from Ann Menebroker who
told him Kell Robertson ain't doing so good
now in his 80's living in a chicken coop but
John Bennett up in Ellensburg is just fine still
writing his shards and we had some laughs
talking about all that old poetry bullshit and
he's still drinking and I'm still drinking so that's
fitting I quess at least we're still alive although
I wouldn't want to be 18 again never dreaming
I'd be as fucking disillusive as I am right now

8/22/09

Not Dead Yet

bloated at 41 in a hospital
bed the gut and that
rig hooked up to make
you breathe but you
look so gone motherfucker
liver shutting down and
just a couple of months
ago I pulled out your
tooth and we all laughed
and drank yet this is a
real poem in time what
we wait in line for because
you're one of the best
so they've induced a
coma on your ass and
your brown eyes open
only in 10 second intervals
when my kids speak to
you in braille hallucination




The group try their
cellphones but
nobody has a signal.




8/19/09

APPLIED TO ANY SCAR

one man's
sweetheart
is another
man's whore

8/17/09

Stratagem

little too
late to
know that

you would
have held
me even

now with
this blown
off face

because
every unsung
wants to

go forever
but fuck
all that who

needs the
pendulum
cross

when my
magic trick
birth

certificate
means it wasn't
a dream

8/15/09



ONE DRAGONFLY INTO CHAOS

every page
reads all
the other
pages


8/12/09

THIS AIN'T REALLY A POEM

but for my 2 or 3
hardcore fans who
know where I'm
coming from I'd
like to let you
know the USDA
guy was here today
looking like a fucking
CSI cop in pale blue
shirt wearing an
expensive watch to
inspect my new
toilet and everything
is cool I beat the
devil with a bigger
devil and now it's
business as usual the
beer cans out the
front door and me
rolling joints for the
inept because you
won't see me using the
damn thing but if
you're ever in the
neighborhood and need
to take a shit call me
on my cell 541-892-7100
and bring the Charmin
maybe some whisk then
you can tell me what
I already think I know

Siren's Song

jungled up in late autumn under
the Interstate freezing half to
death when you realize your
scrotum has sucked up your
nuts against your body to keep
that sperm warm and cozy for a
monster fuck you won't ever have

8/6/09

6 Mexicans

when I wasn't quite as stupid as I
am now I had an art gallery on the
Sacramento River with my then
girlfriend Marta Matulich who was
a fabric artist right there in a little
town called Walnut Grove and we
would party with all the usual whacked
out fucks you always make friends with
but there was this one dude Tony Coyne
from Perth who would always tell me
he was a heavyweight boxer ranked
third in Australia with that thick accent
of his and he was a big motherfucker so
the more we drank the more we drank
but he was a good partner he just missed
boxing and would always bitch about it
so one day at the bar I had behind the
big room where Marta showcased all
of her dolls I told him I'll fight you man
and gave him my best punch which was
pretty funny because the next thing I
knew I was on the floor about 20 feet
from the bar shaking it off trying to get
it together and he's standing there and
I think fuck this boxing shit and dive
at his legs and knock him down and
we're all over the room kicking and
rolling and after awhile it becomes
pointless so we get up laughing and sit
back down to have another beer and
he tells me you're my brother mate and
that makes me feel pretty damned good
until Marta walks in pissed off seeing
all the heel marks from our shoes covering
those one inch tongue and grooved walls
so we split and go right behind the gallery
to the street below where this farmworker
joint The Porthole was and I watch him
kick the living shit out of 6 Mexicans

8/5/09

Ghost Writer

just the facts mang
because there is
no Book of the Half
Dead so dummy up
when the feeling hits
take it real slow like
hitchhiking Whittier
Boulevard with
Thee Midniters
back in '65 and those
pretty brown eyes
catch yours with all
that hennaed hair
feathered out the
tinted window just
for that one second
before she gives you
the finger and her
girlfriends laugh
reverbing it even
further into
failed literature

8/1/09

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

bleached pantie

methamphetamine

cum