![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/johnesimpson.com\/images\/math_harris.gif?resize=494%2C365&ssl=1\" "\\"Higher")
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From whiskey river<\/em><\/a>:<\/p>\n Dogs<\/strong><\/p>\n Many times loneliness (W. S. Merwin, from Writings To An Unfinished Accompaniment<\/em>)<\/p>\n …and<\/a>:<\/p>\n I have figured for you the distance between the horns of a dilemma, night and day, and A to Z. I have computed how far is Up, how long it takes to get Away, and what becomes of Gone. I have discovered the length of the sea serpent, the price of priceless, and the square of the hippopotamus. I know where you are when you are at Sixes and Sevens, how much Is you have to have to make an Are, and how many birds you can catch with the salt in the ocean – 187,796,132, if it would interest you.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n (James Thurber, Many Moons<\/em> [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n Long practice and training, begun in the schools and continued in the experience of daily life, enable us [in Flatland] to discriminate at once by the sense of touch, between the angles of an equal-sided Triangle, Square, and Pentagon; and I need not say that the brainless vertex of an acute-angled Isosceles is obvious to the dullest touch. It is therefore not necessary, as a rule, to do more than feel a single angle of any individual; and this, once ascertained, tells us the class of the person whom we are addressing, unless indeed he belongs to the higher sections of the nobility. There the difficulty is much greater. Even a Master of Arts in our University of Wentbridge has been known to confuse a ten-sided with a twelve-sided Polygon; and there is hardly a Doctor of Science in or out of that famous University who could pretend to decide promptly and unhesitatingly between a twenty-sided and a twenty-four sided member of the Aristocracy.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nis someone else
\nan absence
\nthen when loneliness is no longer
\nsomeone else many times
\nit is someone else’s dog
\nthat you’re keeping
\nthen when the dog disappears
\nand the dog’s absence
\nyou are alone at last
\nand loneliness many times
\nis yourself
\nthat absence
\nbut at last it may be
\nthat you are your own dog
\nhungry on the way
\nthe one sound climbing a mountain
\nhigher than time<\/p><\/blockquote>\n