Monday, July 4, 2011

TO BE NAMED AND OTHER WORKS OF POETIC LICENSE by David Madgalene, Toni Partington and Christopher J. Luna

From "To Be Named and Other Works of Poetic License":

The floods came just as the scientists said they would. And Atlanta, where at the height of the disco craze many years before Alicia Bridges had recorded “I love the night life”, was inundated like many other cities, and Jesus did not rescue the Christians or the Republicans or the oil-people or CNN or the rest of the media and they drowned just like the gays and whores and the druggies and the night-lifers and the democrats. The 27th clone of Alicia Bridges, just as beautiful as the first, stood on the same overpass where the original Alicia had once posed for an LP cover as Atlanta was consumed by the flood. ..

They had been warned—just as Geo. W. Bush & Condi Rice had been warned, and they did not listen. They said “If we pray hard enough, Jesus will hear our prayers and build the pipeline.” They said “Global warming is a fad,” in fact the farmer’s almanac predicted a 50-year global cooling trend. The true threat was masterminded by a madman who lived in a cave in the mountains of Pakistan, a madman they could never seem to fetch.  They heard the voice of God, and it said “Drill, baby, drill!” but how could they tell it was the voice of God, and not the voice of the Devil pretending to be God? The Devil can even appear as Jesus or the Mother Mary or whomever he wants to…the 27th clone of Alicia Bridges teared-up, and she couldn’t say she wasn’t crying out of self-pity. For even though she was a clone, Alicia-27 was not immortal, and she knew, that she, too, must drown and die.

 “CAN”T YOU FOOLS SEE? IT”S NOT ABOUT POLITICS! IT”S ABOUT MYTHOLOGY! IN THE FUTURE  THE POETS WILL BE WRITING ABOUT GEORGE W BUSH AND THE END OF THE WORLD WE KNEW!”

THE END OF THE AMERICAN EMPIRE—TOGA PARTY!

“To Be Named and Other Works of Poetic License” is a one-of-a-kind, limited edition art book created collaboratively by poets David Madgalene, Toni Partington, and Christopher Luna. The 200+ page text is a series of poetic travelogues written during Christopher Luna’s yearly visits to California from 2005 to 2009. Each poem was written in collaboration with other people he visited or with whom he traveled. The cover of each book is an album cover that has been altered, painted, and/or collaged upon by all three artists. Other poets and artists who appear as characters or voices in the book include Michael McClure, Eric Padget, Eileen Elliott, Judy Irwin, Ed Coletti, and Mark Eckert.

Below you will find all 46 covers, as well as prices. Book covers that are no longer available are marked SOLD, and this list will be updated as more books are sold.

If you'd like to purchase a copy of "To Be Named," contact christopherjluna@gmail.com or tpartington@earthlink.net. In your email, please indicate which cover you prefer. Each copy of "To Be Named" includes a one-of-a-kind cover as well as the 200+ page poem, "To Be Named and Other Works of Poetic License."

TO BE NAMED AND OTHER WORKS OF POETIC LICENSE

BOOK COVERS


1. amor y poesia
SOLD


2. Leonard Cohen: Nashville Rebel
(for Dr. David James Randolph)
SOLD


 

3. Worship yourself no less not more than any other deity
(BACK COVER)
$40



4. GRAHAM CRACKER CENTRAL STATION
SOLD


5. One Hipper Little Kitty Than When She Started/SYLVIE VARTAN
$40


6. Beatles MCMLXXVI (or '76)
(For Andrew Mayer)
SOLD


7. The Secret of the Golden Pavilion
$40


8. the poet of the organ
$30



9. French Goes Oriental/ANYTHING GOES
(BACK COVER)
$40

10. The Whispering Organ Sound of
Brad Swanson goes Hawaiian
$30


11. SUZANNE CIANI
THE VELOCITY
OF
LOVE
$35


12. Was it you or him that made it hot?
Or was it just you being drunk or high? pops
$30


13. THAT SAN FRANCISCO BEAT!
SOLD


14. THE GREAT Temples That Faced Heaven
$40


15. I Lost My Parrot Blues (for Ed Coletti)
SOLD 


16. Hey Kids Let's Go Green with Al Martino
$40


17. How the Camel Got His Hump
$30


18. Beautiful Brides for Less
$30


19. Don't wear no fishnet stockings
$35


20. BONJOUR PARIS (for That Very Special Lady)
SOLD


21. Nero Fiddled While PARIS Burned
$35


22. The Stunted Penis Because It Is My Heart
$30


23. Havana at Midnight Really Gets Me Hot
$30


24. Apasionada: It's Hard on a Pimp 
$35

 

25. Redeeming Dubya
$30


26. ME FRANK YOU MIA
$40


27. DIXIE GIRL (You Ain't Gettin' None)
$40


28. Nightwings
$35


29. The Best of the Moms and Dads
$35


30. Gingerbread Boy and the Abyssinian Maid
$30


31. Desert Man: A Study in Apocalyptic High Fidelity Sound
$30


32. Stop "Freaking" Out
$30


33. Black Magic Woman
$40


34. Dark Lady
SOLD


35. Feed the Face
(FRONT COVER)
SOLD


35. Feed the Face
(BACK COVER)



36. Pink Champagne/For Babycita 
(FRONT COVER)
$30




37. A Mouthful of Fun
$30


38. Lena Goes Bat Vegas
$30


39. Ken Griffin at the Great Organ
Explains Why He Is Not George Duke
(For Michael McClure)
SOLD


40. Around the world Orgy with Bing!
$45


41. FAITH
$30



42. Alicia Bridges and the End of the American Empire
(BACK COVER)
$30


43. Nashville Dreams (For Michael Rothenberg)
SOLD


44. Marry Him
SOLD


45. Dory Previn Is My Favorite
SOLD


46. Living in the Past
SOLD

"On the Beam" a selection from "To Be Named and Other Works of Poetic License" by Christopher J. Luna and David Madgalene


                                                 sincerity is a lifestyle
                                                                                    Michael Smoler

I stumbled. And wept.
I lost my balance.
Climbed onto the train,
headed for California.
            the land I’d dreamed of
                        since childhood

my good friend David
            “he’s on the beam, man”
we’re all on the beam this week
riding the energy created by
Psychedelic Shaman Homie High Silk Purse
the Holy Trinity of the Bay Area

July 17, 2004

“That’s so nice, ‘cause I was thinking about you, too,
you must have been pickin’ up on my waves.”

Shadow of a Doubt about the significance of Charles M. Schulz

July 18

                                                Why, you ought to be able teach any
                                                reasonably attentive 12-year-old child
                                                to speak iambic pentameter in about an
                                                hour. So what’s so great about writing it?

                                                                                                            Michael McClure

Judy: “Forgot to have a moment of silence for the troops
            This morning. It’s a scary scary world we live in.”

in the car we discuss the work of
Brakhage, Vonnegut, & King

in San Francisco they say “the men are beautiful
                                    and the women are handsome”

feed David his first-ever gelato
outside Maria’s Italian Pastry
where a young Chinese-American woman
in a pink angora sweater
black-and-white checked skirt
and fuck-me boots
recounts her entire sexual history
for her girlfriend, giggling
about how she made her boyfriend
beg for weeks before
she let him put it in her ass
but amazingly, she tells all of this
without naming the act
preferring to employ
some esoteric form
of vapid chick code

Michael commands me: “Don’t talk to any publishers.
                                                You’re shooting way too low.”

outside U.S. Restaurant
drunken woman in long blue dress mutters
            “Fucking Chinaman owns this place,” sees me:
                        “I love you.”

I love you, too
San Francisco

As we drive through the fog
on the Golden Gate Bridge:
            “This is totally existential.
This is film noir.”

“It was because of that bitch.
            It was because of that bitch
in the Mercedes.”

finally make the pilgrimage to City Lights
climb the stairs to the Poetry Room
the space in which Dave feels
the holiness resides
discuss the hierarchy of shelf position
descend the stairs into the main room where
David has found my words in the pages
                        of eye-rhyme and Rain Taxi



July 19

It was like a real funky little town you know
And the whole town was partying
And I don’t know why
I was just digging these kids
I think they were like rainbow people kind of kids
And I was digging it, it was so cool you know
And some of these guys and chicks
            With their beautiful dreads
I didn’t use to dig it
But now I’m digging white kids with dreads
And that deconstructed schoolgirl look
Natty girls wearing plaid mini-skirts so ironically
Man those torn-up pantyhose get me off…

And then there was this guy
I swear there was this guy
He was walking down the street
He was about 7 ft tall
He had his hair done up in a dozen little pigtails
                 At least 7 ft tall
      He was a white guy I don’t know
He looked like he could have been yellow or green or blue
He’s wearing a red kimono
And he’s glowing I mean dude is glowing!
I just wanted to run up and follow this guy
I wanted to know who he was…


July 20

Rikki Ducornet came in a vision

July 21

sitting on a leather couch next to
the shaman
minimalist, expansive
generous, challenging
curandero with the stare of an eagle
who tells us that Stan’s mind was
too large for hallucinogens:
            “Some people shouldn’t do drugs.”

a transmission occurs
with friends like these
time becomes malleable
elastic, impermanent

July 22

Radio interview with Mayor Jerry Brown, KGO 810 AM, 8:20 am: “So Linda Ronstadt likes Michael Moore? The thing [Fahrenheit 9/11] is very polarizing. . . it’s the RED, RAW, MEAT. Here in Oakland, people were screaming with enthusiasm over the movie. But I guess if you’re in Vegas, and you’re taking people’s money, you’ve got to tell them what they want to hear.”

“everything has changed
            I understand what poetry is about”

“Man, I don’t even wanna think about the last time I was in Paris.”

That’s a spiritual reality.
It’s a psychic thing.
You gotta open your mind to it.
It’s the sixth dimension.

July 23

“I like it hotter than Carlos. We’ve always gotten along good, but hot sauce has always been a bone of contention.”

I don’t know.
I might just go off tonight.

On Tuesday, maybe we could go to the Asian mall
and pick up some Asian snacks.

July 24

That Kraut is kinda scary.

“We need a fucking good map of San Francisco!”

Talk about a genius.
He was the beam.
He was on the beam.
He was beamin’.

SQUAT & GOBBLE
CAFÉ & CREPERY

                        A seal head bobbing
                        up and down in the
San Francisco Bay.
Are you my Daddy?


Harrison Street Chant


                        Get the Amish girls, man.
                        Get the Amish girls running.
                        Why are they running?
                        Where are they going, man?

                        Get the Amish girls, man.
                        Get the Amish girls coming.
                        Don’t worry. The Amish girls
know who they are.
The Amish girls are coming all together.

July 25

“You’re beyond Hermann Hesse. I’m giving you an A in
Herman Hesse and move on.”

“This is it. Tell me if you don’t think this is cookin’.
They don’t call him Woody for nothin’.”

Judy: “The Lawrence Welk dancers are hopping now. The point is that it’s the Lawrence Welk gang that ruined this music. That’s the point.”

“Woody Allen and Woody Herman, ya know? It’s double the wood, man.”

Girl in Dollar Tree, Healdsburg:

“I like the two-party system. I party on Friday night. I party on Saturday night. Good system.”

                        in some cases the shaman was nuts
                        but they were still the shamans
                        it’s all in the same bag
                        it all comes from the same place

sexual perversion only exists in industrialized society
the result is a nation of perverts

July 26

I guess you could say
we all have some diva divinity in us,
but it just manifests itself in different ways.

July 27
Vesuvio
Columbus Ave, SF
waiting for A.D. Winans
11:00 am

“Michelangelo coulda done Britney Spears.”

“$170 knife.”

“She didn’t speak English but she wasn’t afraid of nothing.”

“This is the finest city I’ve ever been in in my life.”

“Pulled out his fucking egg. That’s marvelous. It’s his little nervous egg. You could live here for years and never encounter one of those. He gave it to the little girl and she loved it.”

“They’re like ben-wa balls.”

“God bless John Riley.”

“Now I gotta pretend to be responsible.”

“You have to have a fly swatter, and you have to have a fan.”

“You’re kidding me. I love it.”

“Where you gonna go?”

“Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos. But I can’t afford to live here anymore.”

“Look at this, this billionaire has to go to prison, can you believe it?”

“She thought she was above it.”

“Wrong again. Here’s the guy with the clippers.”

“Like a cheap suit. Like shit on a baby’s blanket. You can’t get baby shit off a blanket.”

“I’m so sick of CNN. Every 15 minutes it’s the same fucking news.”

“ABC does the same thing, just repeat the fucking news, ‘cause I guess people look in, and they look away.”

“Guy’s a flying fucking asshole.”

“Fuck him and fuck Don Johnson, too.”

“I’m a bartender. Don’t fuck with me, I’ll fuck you up. . . . I’m no starfucker. You’re famous? So what, so’s my Mom.”

11:50 am

“No poets here, we’re novelists!”

            “How hard does the old rock get? Stick around!”

            “There are three bars under here. Three bars that I know about. But this is good shit. The Chinese don’t fuck around.”

            “Does anyone have a cigarette I can borrow? Someone depraved me of my tobacco. They used to have a cigarette machine right over here. Now they’ve got all this Socialist propaganda.”

            “Disaster, divorce.”

            “By this afternoon I’m probably gonna be unconscious.”

            “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

            “No, unconscious is not one of my desires. I prefer to be awake.”

            “Willy takes this voluptuous, Rubenesque, Junoesque heifer – a lotta meat to the hoof – back to his place. . . . .”

            “Grabbin’ the wrong tits, huh?”

            “No, I’m grabbin’ the right ones, I just don’t know what to do with them. When I was 35, and with a girl, I was pleasuring her with my mouth, and she said, ‘What are you doing down there?’ It was humiliating, but at least I learned to know what I’m doin’.”

July 28

                                                Jazz is in the moment because of the idea
                                                of improvisation. It is like life. Unless you
are in the moment, you are not fully
experiencing what’s happening around you.

- Susan Muscarella

Dad’s down for the Geisha

“they were gandernecking at that wreck”

            Hoyt Axton: “You’ve got a pork chop coming”

Yerba Buena.
It means “beautiful grass,” man.

some of that good earth

                        still has a ghastly smell   “oh sheep shit”
                                    it’s fine, it’s fillin’ the hole

Chinatown, just the way I always pictured it.

                        great to meet Rabbit

                                                                        it’s a self-orienting thing, OK?

                                                            “You can be a scoffing disbeliever,
                                                                        but you weren’t there, in the
                                                                        presence of the Man.”

Last night in San Francisco

Blowout tears the roof off
on Stockton      between Green & Union
even breaking off some Mingus
to send me home with

                        homeless guy in the middle of the street screams at a young couple

“how can you be in love when you offer the poor a cookie?”

                        but when I hand him 23 cents, he throws it to the ground

“Ingrate!”
                        and after the show actually has the balls to ask me for change again
                        when I remind him who I am, he holds up an obscene phallic object:

                                                                        “Wanna lick?”

Thursday, July 29

                                                In the freezer you’ll find in a can
                                                Some leftover Moo Goo Gai Pan

                                                            - Nancy Kwan, singing “Fan Tan Fanny”
                                                                        from Flower Drum Song

moments after waking
David and I discuss set and setting:
“Wash your underwear and eat fish tacos?       
That’s obscene!”

Judy: “on that baldheaded man’s head”

this is feelin’
really righteous in the hole

                        I got this thing
                        and it was a nightmare
                        it was a monstrosity

“we’ve gotta work on our handholding”

what’s that word for fear of clowns?
I think I’m having it right now

GODDESS IS PORTHOLE
            that’s my woman…