Owl trepidations remind me of Roger Clemens's roid rage.
Or the vitamin injections he got which magically shrivelled his testicles and gave him bulging eyes.
Have you asked about indulgences? I've heard he sells them cheap.
All you have to do is drop your uniform trousers and have a trainer inject them into you buttocks.
Then, when they ask questions, just say, "look, I was born with wrinkly little nards...got it?!?"
I call them my little owl pellets as I trepidate and pet them.
Baseball players reach down there so often to make sure nothing's shrivelled up
Time takes its toll on everything, Boy Wonders.
The boys of summer are now buttcheek warriors.
who think they're funny, though pitiful, preoccupied, unpoetic
little baseballs saying, "Barry Bonds, please hit me.  Hit me hard
and if you do it, do it like you knew i had a wife.
I have enough time and talon marks to save
the title & last line written for the latest poem along with a place for you to write the next line.
I've got roid rage, yes I do, I've got roid rage how bout you?
but before the moon was waning crescent
the trainer popped another needle up in there
Somebody wondered if the cookie jar was full, and it was.