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Wow. Old Alfred E. Newman?

The things that stick with you.

The only other poem I can remember is;

I wandered, lonely as a clod,
Just picking up old rags and bottles,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden axolotls.
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and playing in the breeze.

Some had handles, some were plain;
They came in blue, red, pink and green.
Some were orange in the main,
The damndest sight I've ever seen.

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 them axolotls.

That has to be a Newman too.