Imagine Nation & The People Of Ilk

IMAGINE NATION & THE PEOPLE OF ILK 1(a) Put your poem in its upright position, (b) close your eyes and (c) imagine a nation made entirely of imagination.” -- From the Poetocols of the Learned Elders of Poetency Aside from the wildermess of children, the only other inhabitants of the Imagine Nation, are the Creative Class: poets, composers, choreographers, artists and their Ilk. The Ilk are second cousins to the Creative Class. They have unique Ilky ways of doing things. There is a galaxy named after them. Worms also. Once upon a time in the middle of a century there was a great poetician who ran for elation. His name was Ilk Eisenhowever; he ran for the Ilk of Human Kindness Party. Oppositionists showed up at his rallies chanting, Spill Ilk. This killed Ilk’s ambition for the precedentcy. Ilk people dress in ambiguity and hold generic status. They never stand-alone; they always belong to others. They are a notably unspecific people caboosed to the end of a sequence that identifies other people. It is the law of grammar (sect.13, sub.1). It is impossible to write thus: “…choreographers, Ilk, composers, artists and their poets.” The Stupid Writes Commission will poetically correct this abuse of free speech, unless the poet meets two conditions; (1) is a valid holder of Poetic Licence and (2) the transgression achieves Poetic Justice. The Imagine Nation is cluttered with one-night stanza tourists who are often ashamed or embarrassed about their brief visitation rites, so they do it under cover of sleep and explain it away as “just a dream.” If the dream happens to be a dangerous buckeroo, they call it a night mare. (Edgar Allen Poe was renown for stampedes of night stallions.) Some splash&grab sluts are troubled by the incoherency of these wild imaginings and seek out uncertified interpreters to explain them, to make the uncommon common. Actually, dreams are commercials from the tourism industry of the Imagine Nation. They can be playful as kites surfing with fairy somethings on the crest of breaking breezes. These kites like to tug, pull you up, encourage you to defy the law of gravitas. Dreams are umbilically tethered to your insensibilities and remind you that the motherland is the Imagine Nation. Some regions of the Imagine Nation are made of vaporous verbs, clutter flies, phart faeries, mumble beez, always on the move, flower to promiscuous flower, surfing thought waves, and tumbling into the turbulence of beginnings. The Imagine Nation is a common sensory deprivation chamber, a portal to the ever expanding conscious mess, swiddling children with brilligs, slithy toves and the people of Ilk.