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 manís blood freeze.
Some had handles, some were plain;
Now oft, when on the couch I lie,
Click for more info about these critters.