Tendentious Poems

You don't say.
You said.

Each curious head
has been concussed
on the hardgood floor.

Portmanteaus,
poetmanteaus,

concatenations generalize
according to the definition
of a world whose population
is words.

There are places
that charge admission
where you feel
that you are standing
at an angle
straight up.

Fall down
and start over,

money back
over shoulder
for luck;

you will one day be
the salt of some earth.

That's no dogma,
it's a bog

so filled with muck
to defy mirth
and myth.