Showing posts from 1997

Tuesday Honky-Tonk Review

16 Sept 1997 By Alex Nuttall - Bio

Well, wheels work whist-gently Against The grain of sand and snow l peruse To use The vehicle To shew myself a new occupation.
Strange sinister laughs languor Upon side shelved selfish beats and bleating Goals good us into reference To share our same selves deliver.
Ape gone shat-mad carries Surly show-me-all toy and toil Begot, beget, behead, beloved, behooved, Bereaved and bewildered Shameless hussies in hot horny-pants remind me Of stiff loves generic equations.
More variables than you can shake A voodoo doll at and get away with the sun.

© Alexander Blair Nuttall / OGFOM-K Arts 1998
© Alexander Blair Nuttall / OgFOMK ArTS 1998 - 2017

20170706 -ABN

Little Vedic Poems

28. Apr. 1997
By Alex Nuttall - Bio
Little Vedic poems
about little Vedic things –
It doesn’t change much
But you’re not here to talk to
at this now –
This point.

Little Vedic poems
Have gotten to be written
The name has got to be used.

A title – yes – a title…
A label – yes – a word…
Yes – a word – a mnemonic of experience.

The clarity is in the definition
By the experience.

Id est

The word moves and changes reality
But remains the same.

Little Vedic Poems get written
By the ones who uncover
What the older ones
Were saying:

“Read the Rig,
Catch a jig,
Talk to me,
Be free.”


Poetry by Alex Nuttall, title: Little Vedic Poems, Original Date: 19970428 – © Alex Nuttall / OgFOMK ArTS 1997 – 2017 – Retro-published 20170822.

At some point in our history the oral tradition became one of the written word. We take this for granted. Some of us reject this. Some censure. Unique to the quality of mankind the word is the picture is the word. No amount of control can control those who wish to be…

You Shoulda' Been an Astronaut!

16. Feb. 1997 By Alex Nuttall - Bio
Pink pages
Big fat lies
More ugliness
True to the hour
that becomes the

Like some ugly wound
By some wise ol’
That insists that
One will lose the
all of it all
And will have
to call upon
Something to heal
the being from outside;
At least the way is
Entrenched with
Little bitty shitty
bits of the
Great nothingness
of time and words,
Which are the same

Like shallow floods in
Suburban yards;
Not to worry with
rubbers to keep
the pods dry and warm.

The poem "You Shoulda' Been an Astronaut!" by Alexander B. Nuttall was written in 1997 under the duress of Richmond, Virginia. Who knows really what was going on at the time or why he would title this work this way. However dysfunctional this poesy remains it is a march. It is a militant march into the day. It a progressive voyage into space.
 by Alex Nuttall, title: You Shoulda' Been an Astronaut!, Original Date: 19970…