AXILLA
I dropped the buzzard in the sand
and trudged off slowly toward the town,
I needed dinner and a place
where I could throw my weight around,
I detected faint Axilla scent
that put me off my appetite,
But mouflon warring where I went
renewed in me a need to fight,
Then reveling in mirror mask
I soon was lost in foggy ditch,
Without a feather gray or white
to tickle that piano witch,
Fearing that I must expose
my worm to holographic haze,
My Clinometer error rose
and spawned in her new mawkish ways
I woke the witch with reverence
reserved for serpents, snails, and slugs,
I pulled the witch from out the ditch
and turned to face the furry thugs,
The sheep they smiled with teeth agleam,
The weapons in their hooves revolved
I detected a prostatic ream,
I gulped and felt my loins dissolve!
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