The Cat of Curiosity

I have a cat, who roams free range

The cat of curiosity

His universe is sparkling strange

And shrouded thick in mystery

"Why do", he once asks, "things persist

In time ? what keeps reality

Together, and makes it resist

Breaking into absurdity ?

Why don't objects, from nought, alight,

Wobble, and then vanish from ground ?

Why is left left, and why's right right ?

Why won't axes swivel around ?

Now if you're not quite so upset

May I ponder, May I wonder

Why does it not, the cosmos, get

Spontaneously torn asunder !?"

"Hark", I warn, "these questions yield but

Spiritual calamity !"

"But", he says, "I can't them abort

For the sake of serenity !

Cynicism - a dog's good at

Etymologically he's

But were I only not a cat

I should wish be Diogenes

Let me jump to, zip in this bag

A cat can do only so much

To show why do questions me nag

Without leeway or recess as such

Where does the cat end, now explain

And where begin the bag's intents ?

Are we two, or do we contain

The same principal components !?"

"You are", I say, "curious to rag

But we cannot resolve this spat

The cat shall be out of the bag

When the bag gets out of the cat !"