I am asked a question.

My life asks me a question.

I suggest a better question,

one I like more the sound of,

with more pleasing grammar.

My life humors me.

My life asks me that.

I don’t know an answer.

Life is stubborn and clever.

Life says: you must choose.

I can’t choose.

I leave the question.

I go into the garden and weed.

My life weeds with me.

The knees of my pants are stained.