Apparently “her nails were painted”
is The Wrong Answer
when asked to explain yourself to Dr. Professor, PhD
after you, normally top of your class,
So Royally Flunked
your most recent practical.
He looked at me expectantly
but I had no other explanation to offer,
so I looked up from my own nails,
kept short because of the latex gloves,
shrugged, and left.
Because I couldn’t bring myself
to identify the vagus nerve or various lobes of liver when,
So glaringly apparent,
were her nails.
Painted.
