The researcher

The Researcher.

He always had a bag to grab,
And rush to his office in a cab;

Things were waiting in his lab,
Each one laid out on every slab;

At times he just had to dab,
At other times he had to swab;

The work often became drab,
Or unpredictable like a crab;

His wife never failed to jab,
On the raw crust of his scab;

She felt he lived like a nawab,
Enjoying in his lab hot kabob,

Was punishable, this verbal stab?
Can she be held with a cop’s nab?