Eight. A perfect little numberA Poem by BeccyJust a bit of funPositive unimodular lattice dwell in dimensions divided by eight. 'Tis vital I'm told to the way of the world, and my ignorance begs no debate. But eight on its own is a marvel, two perfectly plump little O's, one perched on the top of the other as around and around this world goes. For eight is the atomic number without which mankind would be sunk. We'd turn blue in the face, as if drifting in space and start acting decidedly drunk. No eights would make spiders uneven they'd just tumble and roll on their bums. Spinning blithely away in complete disarray without their eight fingers and thumbs. Just eight is the magical number, of the billions of stars in the sky, that orbit the girth of our glorious sun, as it nurtures and warms from on high. And eight bits used to buy you a coffee in Starbucks at Broadway and Grand, (though with taxes of course not included,) and 'twas instant and awfully bland. But as I ponder within my gazebo, a structure most pleasing in shape; eight sides in an octagon perfect, I think our Lord made a mistake. For two O's not just one is the ideal, and I think it would truly be great, to be a positive unimodular lattice in a dimension divided by eight.
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16 Reviews Added on August 15, 2015 Last Updated on August 15, 2015 AuthorBeccyUnited KingdomAboutI'm forty four, single and have a lovely fifteen year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I have always been an assiduous reader of poetry and real.. more..Writing
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