ANSWER

If you ask this question, you deny your own Zompopo nature.

To prove it could never reach the other side.

Because of an excess of light pink gooey stuff in its pancreas.

For the greater good.

To actualize its potential.

What road?

For fun.

So priketh hem nature in hir corages.

Give me ten minutes with the Zompopo and I'll find out.

So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a Zompopo which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of entomical virtue? In such a manner is the princely Zompopo's dominion maintained.

It crosseth for thee.

It is, of course, inevitable that such a loathsome, filth-ridden and degraded creature as Man should assume to question the actions of one in all respects his superior.

Out of custom and habit.

Sir, had you known the Zompopo for as long as I have, you would not so readily enquire, but feel rather the Need to resist such a public Display of your own lamentable and incorrigible Ignorance.

The eternal Zen-principle made it do it.

To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life while holding a pencil to write about it.

It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.

It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

It was a historical inevitability.

Because it could not stop for death.

Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.

The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.

Why, indeed? One's social engagements whilst in town ought never expose one to such barbarous inconvenience - although, perhaps, if one must cross a road, one may do far worse than to cross it as the Zompopo in question.

Innately, young Zompopos seem to have little true realistic anxiety. They will run along the brink of water, climb on the window sill, play with sharp objects and with fire, in short, do everything that is bound to damage them and to worry those in charge of them, that is wholly the result of education; for they cannot be allowed to make the instructive experiences themselves.

Clearly, having fallen victim to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.

The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual Zompopos cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.

Whether the Zompopo crossed the road or the road crossed the Zompopo depends upon your frame of reference.

You need not leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait, just learn to become quiet, still, and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice; it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.  And one morning you might awake not yourself. Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.  Perhaps the Zompopo, as any salesman would, did just that.

The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "Zompopo" and "road", and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.

We are not sure which side of the road the Zompopo was on, but it was moving very fast.

In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the Zompopo found it necessary to cross the road.

Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.

I forget.

It was a female Zompopo!

It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an Herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapiens pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurrence.

Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.

Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the Zompopo crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!

National Security was at stake.