A Curiosity Coo
A “coo” comes out. A coo turned sigh turned exasperated yawn-awe.
As white snow melts, spring thaw is revealed warming the air and inviting cold cramped hands to stretch towards curiosity.
Curiosity, our motive to question as our needs supposedly cultivate and expand for yet another season approaches. Sales come to fruition and tempt us to purchase what we already have
Curiosity, intrinsically overwritten by One Big Head and Two Big Head who hand out free manipulation muzzles all the while the irreplaceable capital provided by nature remains the same, albeit diminished a little further this time.

All encompassing closed circuit security cameras catch the omniscient eye,
Raw and unadulterated nature in its inevitable wake from winter sleep rises out from brown cracking vines upon vines veiled by the warming air and soft green-tipped buds register wisdom in forms anew.
Glue.
Once again, we become glued to advertising money mongers, witch tricks disguised. Our adult education.
Glued to the thoughts of hard belts behind.
I convince myself, No tie, no tie down.

The abundance of old trees, old rusty farm equipment and even old buildings awake from their refrigerated slumber,
Don’t shun the leafless tree, climb it. Climb it for curiosity.
Grubby hands tough to please, touch to please. Touch to see that this way is that way and that way is golden.
Care for the coo. Relish the coo as it pukes gently out, sputtering out of twisted lips of Freudian slips.
Our struggle with stuff is merely liquid flow in due time; a forecast of unspoiled fire crackers; the unadorned truth composed upright.
Spring time surrenders struggle and people reborn in mass hysteria send blind eyes upturned and unwavering under ever-growing circles of vultures proud and thirsty.
Pure fantasy relinquishes reality scorned.
Better keep a move on
Better keep a move on

I bring Dionysus in; I dine him and tell him jokes. He lies with me under the red wine covers behind the rum endowed curtains and reminds me not to take things too seriously.
Dionysus laughs, this life, after-life, immortal-life laugh. His laughter enables him to climb the leafless tree effortlessly. Never scampering nor scratching. Just laughter itself propels up through ineffable undeniable breath.
He reminds me to live in laughter and this will in turn unglue me.
Was I glued? Am I glued?
The coo comes out again.
Not bird like but unmistaken. Not innocent but out of Eden.
A coo of thanks,
A coo for truth revealed; a truth that sets me free.
Springtime trees with hidden leaves
are clues which form the question of all time.
The rainbow of all questions.
And in this question the word “curiosity” lingers with laughter.