Copyright ©2003 Jesse Welton
With thanks to David for the concept of how one knows one is three-dimensional and the example of combing one's hair, and to Christina for requesting poetry about three; and with apologies to everyone who reads the third stanza aloud, as it's quite a mouthful with a strange rhyme scheme that's hard to make flow. Perhaps one day I'll rewrite it.
I know I'm three-dimensional
'cause I can comb my hair.
I can tie my shoes and use a straw
and put on underwear.
All these things I couldn't do,
if my extent was merely two;
I must be three-dimensional.
How do I know it isn't more,
not seven, six, or five, or four?
I can tie a braid
with just three strands
and hold it tight with rubber bands.
I sit on a three-legged stool and it stands,
'cause I am three-dimensional.
I am a little puzzled
that I've only got two feet,
but before you scratch your head about it,
consider that my cat has four,
which I suspect is really more
than she truly needs to be so fleet,
so that should balance out it.
This threefold space is so damn cool,
I'm dizzy with dimensions three:
I fly a kite and wind the spool,
play hula-hoop and hug a tree;
and as I twirl and play the fool,
I feel my threeness spatially.
I find it all a bit profound;
I know it isn't just conventional.
The reason I can do these things,
the REASON I can do these things,
. . . . .
is 'cause I'm three-dimensional.
In closing, I'd just like to note that I've come to the conclusion that the whole braid thing is bogus, as the essential topological complexity of three interwoven entities should remain in higher dimensions. So, I simply claim poetic license to draw any conclusion I like from any evidence I wish, for purposes of metaphorical logic. Besides, the Holographic Principle suggests that a three dimensional model of the universe could be completely equivalent to a properly constructed two-dimensional model on an appropriately chosen boundary surface, so any such musings are completely moot anyway. How's that for mind-bending?
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