Anonymous, with apologies to William Wordsworth
(from Mad Magazine, issue #43 in 1958)
I wandered lonely as a clod, Just picking up old rags and bottles, When onward on my way I plod, I saw a host of axolotls; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, A sight to make a man’s blood freeze.
Some had handles, some were plain;
Now oft, when on the couch I lie, | Click for more info about these critters. |