There are an infinite number of questions
and a near infinite number of answers.
Without either, we’d carry the weight of the unknown
on our already stooped shoulders.
Indeed, why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the referee yelled foul?
Because she was attempting to get away from Colonel Sanders?
Because she was a stapled to a punk rocker?
Because is a key word here
In that it implies intent.
Was there a good reason?
You see, questions beget questions
the way chickens beget chickens,
which is in a linear and time-honored fashion.
Picture it – there’s a small stretch of pavement
with a yellow line at its center.
There’s also a crowd of people –
Those on the near side of the road ask: Is the chicken going to cross?
In answer to this question the chicken moves like a zipper tab,
pecking at the bubbles in the asphalt.
And those on the far side of the road ask: What is the chicken going to do now?
In answer to this question the bird ruffles feathers
and plumps herself out in in roadside dirt.
There should be more to this story
but there is not, for the all-knowing chicken
knows nothing.
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