Superstrings and other Underwear

Fold 1: Theoretical Girls


I once entertained this sweet theory,
She'd notions you wouldn't believe.
"Let me pour some Madeira m'deary
While you tell me these things you conceive."

I uncorked a few liters for starters,
It appeared it would be a long night,
When she suddenly took off her garters,
Said, "I think we'd best start things off right."

She went on to tell, " It was hotter than hell,
All ten sides were wrapped up in a ball,
Only four were required, the rest were retired,"
Though it seemed she was cooling it all.

Her skirt was still up as she parted her thighs,
There were marks where her garters had been,
"You must understand," as she twirled the two bands,
"It was pure one-dimensional spin."

With a twist of the loops in her delicate hands,
"It's with superstrings things must begin,
Half 10-to-the-minus-6 cm expands."
Though I stared where her 'supers' had been.

"I know you hate rules, but they're really quite few,
The asymmetry's thin as thin-air,
While some pooh-pooh twistors, others insist
They are just like the pins in my hair."

"Four you can keep," as she pulled out some pins.
These are timely, and spatially fun.
The other six hidden in symmetry's skin,"
I could see things were coming undone.

She reached up and undid the knot in the string
And her hair tumbled down to the table,
"If you'll please keep in mind heterotical things,"
I said, "Sure," as I eyed that lush sable.

"Note, the natural shape, orbifold regularities,"
And, unbuttoning, she brought it to view,
"Do you see those three conical singularities? "
But, I swear, I only saw two.

We're now in a place of a thickening space…
Then she affects a look almost pensive,
"It seems kind of unfair that some said it would tear;
I don't know, lingerie is expensive."

"Some will 'uncoil' while others will 'sweep',
But frankly I prefer hooks.
'Unhook me' simplifies how the universe peeps
from equations you won't find in books."

"Then, once we start folding, things will appear,"
So I watched while she folded her top,
Keep it warming, I thought, as I poured more Madeira,
Yes, its 'hooks', I heard both of them pop.

"I'd like to see more," I said smiling,
Her hem half-way up her smooth thigh,
"It's designed as a cloak most beguiling,
By that Higgs, who's quite painfully shy."

She said things were now somewhat cooler
Though still very hot to the touch.
"There's nothing to measure, no ruler,
In fact, 'all' wasn't really that much."

Frankly, I thought 'all' quite ample.
She said, "Once there were quite a few more.
What you see now is only a sample,"
As her bra loosely dropped to the floor.

I insisted the shapes were delightful,
She recalled those first orbifold forms,
"Their need for repair was just frightful,
Ten hives held three-cubed in a swarm."

"Some thought the whole thing should be mended,
they would cut off the points and then patch."
I winced at the thought, unintended,
An itch where it couldnt be scratched.

"Instead, I suggested a hot-water wash
Where this manifold laundry should go.
Unsanforized, it can merrily slosh
Until D-cups have shrunk down to zero."

"Now as you can see, I'm not A, I'm not D,
But these fellows remained quite disturbed.
They'd poke and they'd probe till unique order showed
If the whole thing were deftly perturbed"

A bit rough it seems, though Ill have to admit
I'd surely sign up for the job,
If poking and probing was done with in limits,
And the rest could be rubbed until throbbed.

She continued, still speaking of things uniform,
"The spin-cycle may yet get the blame.
While things twirl around, some are naturally torn,
By attractors Lorentz couldnt name."

She now suited her action to this strange attraction
And twirled as her skirt skyward sent
A message to all that its gravity's call
Which way cosmic distractions might went.

One things for sure, as I caught a brief glimpse,
Her panties were sheer as the wind,
If Chaos be heaven and God's 137,
Then we've got a new concept of sinned.

When the twirling was done, and the universe won,
She came over and stood by my chair.
Did a half-turn, "Take the things that you've learned,
Kindly undo the knots that are there."

I looked at the thing, It was tight as could be,
"10 to the 26th GeVs tight it is;
And we haven't a clue to the diet it needs
To fit pants in which particles live."

"They once called a tailor to cut a whole cloth
That must cover a girth of 4n+2,
Anorexia extreme for the massless en broth,
Once calibrated, these phantoms show through."

"Enough for two garments, remember the folds?
Six pieces made one, and four, a bikini,
The former held masses, known weights to behold,
The latter just perfect for things teeny-weeny."

Her waist was most pleasing in both shape and width,
So I held it a moment for fun,
My embrace must have tickled, for she sucked in her breath,
And, voilá! the first knot was undone.

I examined the rest, in their maddening array
"Don't forget the four pins in your hand."
There were multiple strand types in every which way
"You might stick one into the next band."

Well I'm trembling you see, but I set to the task
As my other hand brushes her rear.
The sash starts to shimmer, does all that I ask,
And a second knot now disappears!

The third knots just tangles, a basket of why's
"Reason," she says, "governs things that compact."
I ventured perhaps that God tired Her eyes,
With ten stages for just the First Act.

She laughed, but remained resolute in her call,
"I've long held the notion they fell on their own,
Though others say forces had pushed on the walls,
I think they collapsed when God answered the phone."

While she said that, "I carefully stuck in a pin,
Found a clod that had lodged itself there.
Watched in amazement the process begin,
Six-sides vanished in ephemeral air!

Then the other four gathered or maybe unfurled,
If this was the seventh, perhaps He just rested.
Intitial states set for Material Girls
With new product samples about to be tested.

I stepped back a moment to count some of her freckles,
The matter now seeming deceptively simple,
Those vanishing things are, by nature, quite fickle,
Untied, the sky glitters with marvelous dimples.

The rest of the knots were approached in like manner,
The whole length of the Planck sanded perfectly flat,
As much well-behaved as respectable banter,
That finally predicts where it is were not at.

With the last of the problems untied and undone
Superduperstring theory will have its own way,
An extracurricular taken for fun,
While the serious students look elsewhere for pay.

I stared at her butt, with my brain in a muddle;
She wriggled just so, made the universe ring,
As her skirt softly slid to the floor, in a puddle,
"You've managed untying the Great Cosmic String."

Then I hooked my thumbs in the band of her pretties,
Barely covering mysteries theory had hidden,
Her laugh, husky and lyric, as I tugged itty-bitty,
To those who love Theory, nothing's forbidden.

And, now, for awhile I thought I'd play mad,
For in truth it was fair turn to tease her,
Though I knew, by that look, that she wanted it bad,
It was time for the theory of leisure.

But impatience now chose what I should not suppose,
While I gazed straight away into perfect desire,
How could I not help it? - That Great Cosmic Rose --
As I helplessly burst into galaxy fire.

I blurted, unversified, delights yet to come;
I'd retract them, but caught it too late;
"My dearest explorer, we've only begun,
That long journey to tectonic plates."

"Though I'm naked before you, completely revealed,
I've still marvelous wonders to show…"
I was dazed by her treasure, my senses now reeled,
"even then, please begin with my TOE."

Nary a photon, a quark-darkened fright,
Why, from bosons to starlight, is light years from here!
And from there, the first mammals ain't even in sight!
Just doin' the dinosaur takes a whole night!
I can see this might drag on for years and for years.

"Don't forget," she then added, "Fate's done the twisting,.
These are just blueprints, a probable place,
There's luck and ambition, and more to this listing
Perhaps extradition to impossible space.

There was little to say, despite lust's finest scent,
She just smiled and came ever nearer;
Like most theory, she rarely arrived where she went,
But, filling our glasses 'neath candlelight's tent
Said, "Do have some Madeira, m'deary."


(from Bawdy Songs of the Universe)

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