Meet Dot and Spot

Because life is too tired to make any sense, how about a poem that is full of non-sense?

There once was a dot whose name was Spot
or perhaps it was a spot whose name was Dot –
or maybe there was once a dot and a spot
and the spot’s name was Dot
and the dot’s name was Spot,
or the spot was Spot
and the dot was Dot.

Now my tie is all tongued
and my twords are all wisted.
So we begin again, with
a spot named Dot and
a dot named Spot.

Spot, he was a handsome spot –
no, he was a handsome dot,
and Dot, she was a lovely dot –
no, she was a lovely spot.
One, a dot on a dish towel,
the other a spot on a shirt.
Or rather, one a spot on a dish towel
and a dot on a shirt.

Once, the towel was a shirt
and the shirt was once a towel,
but that’s beside the point –
or is it beside the dot?
No, the dot is beside the spot
because the dot and the spot
were both in the wash,
and soon they were no more,
that poor Spot and poorer Dot.

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