THE CURIO CLUB

Questions to which there are no answers —

I look for those questions

and keep asking them.

Every question thinks a new thought,

changes an old one —

but there are no answers.

I am in a forever loop of questions,

wanting no answers.

Forever seeking.

Forever searching.

Forever curious.

Call me Curio.

—

Wave to me

and talk to me.

Come and sit beside me.

Let’s look at a table

and discuss its make.

Let’s look at a pumpkin

and wonder its weight.

Why do people smile at strangers?

Who designed the patio outside?

—

The rules of the game are: you can’t answer.

You question a ton,

and the answers —

you never learn.

—

So what would you like to ask me

and get no answers to?

—

Would you like to

know why I changed my name

and call myself Curio?

Or should I ask you

why your eyes glitter in the sun?

Is it magic or science,

or you put contacts for fun?

—

The questions are fun.

Keep them coming.

Let them run.

Wonder about the glittering eyes.

Wonder about the golden hair.

Is it a toupee,

a wig,

or naturally rare?

—

But while the ladies are laughing

and questioning galore —

here comes someone

with a manly roar.

He starts explaining and answering,

providing logic and solutions.

Fun walks out the window.

Listen to the man —

mansplaining.

—

Eyes are rolling

while the man is ’splaining.

We look engaged.

He looks satisfied.

He walks out.

We re-invite fun in,

bolt the door from within.

Curio and ladies —

back to our questioning.

-Curio Athena

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