A midget ate a pigeon
and the pigeon ate a pig.
If that seems odd remember
that the pig was not that big.
He was a bite-sized nugget,
a toy pig as they say,
one that would fit on a keychain
should your inkling lean that way.

The pig had ate an aphid
and the aphid ate a dot
and if you think I mean the candy I assure you I do not.
The dot had ate a nothing since there’s nothing there to eat
when you’re just a speck of something without appendages or feet.
A speck can’t eat a smidgen though a smidgen eats a nit
and a nit can eat a little if he puts his mind to it.

A little eats a sprig which eats a fleck which eats a hint,
and a hint enjoys a mote if it has a hint of mint.
A mote is rather picky, as it eats only a jot,
and a jot can eat a little or a jot can eat a lot.

But not if it is eaten first by an iota or a smitch,
though a smitch prefers a bit of course, if it is not too rich.
And bits are oft predated by a scruple or a whoop,
who would need to quadruple if they were to share a boop.

In which case they would appeal to the brothers snip and snap,
who’s appetites are whetted by all things about the size of that.
Though those two mainly spend their time
creeping round in cahoots
and trying not to be gobbled up by dribbets or by hoots.

Though I have to say, none of them have seen a tittle or a whit,
for each is too small to see at all, even if you look right at it.
But if you could, with eyes that good, a hundred you could cram
and still have lots of breathing room
on the inside of a dram.

So a midget ate a pigeon and that pigeon ate a pig.

I don’t know what ate the midget ‘cause it wore a phony wig.