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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