Old Poems by Other People #5

Everyone has read and enjoyed William Wordsworth's "Daffodils". But if you don't remember it, here it is again--


DAFFODILS

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,--
A host of golden daffodils
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay
In such a jocund company;
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon my inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


Magnificent. Simply magnificent.

But I was a reader of MAD Magazine also, back in the early to mid-1950's. And at the same time I was learning some of the master poets and writers of the ages, I also got a bellyfull of trash. Plain unvarnished trash. Like this parody--


AXOLOTLS


I wandered lonely as a clod,
Just picking up old rags and bottles,
Till once, upon 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.
They came in blue, red, pink and green,
Though most were mottled in the main,
The damnedest sight I've ever seen.
The females did a sprightly dance.
The male ones all wore knee-length pants.

Now, oft, when on the couch I lie,
The doctor asks me what I see.
They flash upon my inward eye
And make me laugh with fiendish glee.
I find my solace now in bottles,
And I forget those axolotls.


I'm sorry. There was a third verse, but for the life of me, I cannot recall any of it. So I publish what I can remember. And let you know that the original did appear in MAD Magazine sometime between 1954 and 1960. And I do not know the author. But I don't think it was Alfred E. Neumann!

My twelfth grade English Lit teacher did not like me very well when I would bring one of these to class and pass it around. But, other than that she was a good old girl. Her husband was the announcer for the football team, the PA guy, and we all liked him really well too. One morning she came in about fifteen minutes late (by the way, he was a doctor), and she told this class of twelfth graders (16 to 18 yrs old) that she was sorry, "But I just couldn't get Frank off this morning."

Open mouth. Insert foot.