A friend of mine, Keith Tornheim, is an Associate Professor of Biochemistry at the Boston University School of Medicine, and a fine poet as well. Keith sent me this poem about a departing secretary at his office.
The Girl with the Green Fingernails
They were bright green and iridescent,
like the backs of exotic beetles,
the fingernails of the girl at the desk.
She flashed me an even brighter
smile of welcome,
then paused to look down
and answer the ringing phone:
“Hello. Biochemistry Department.
How can I help you?”
I’ll bet that smile even carried
down the wires on her voice,
propelled by pulses from
her electric nails.
— Keith Tornheim
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