Because I was reading Robert Frost (“The Road Not Taken”) instead of studying for Gross Anatomy Two nerves diverge in a withered hand And sorry I cannot select the pair Just one answer – so I stand My palms sweaty, expression’s bland Under the proctor’s icy stare The first one’s got a yellow hue And shines beneath fluorescent light Myelin sheath is holding true That once sped signals out of view Through carpal tunnel and out of sight The other nerve, so too it lay Yellow, glossy, full of charm A bit smaller, but who’s to say Less important if…

Inspired by space travel and Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” I think that I shall never see A thing as lovely as a pea A pea whose shell is green and bright Having withstood the years of flight A pea without flavor dried away Despite sitting in the cargo bay A pea that’s sturdy, firm and round In which some vit’mins are still found Piled en masse on my plate Having cleared the take-off weight Such dreams from only fools like me Why can’t NASA make a pea?