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!