Type Dancing

I THOUGHT I SAW MY SPLEEN LAST NIGHT
            By David Allen

 I thought I saw my spleen last night
Had grown to five times its size
There is no doubt, it must come out
The doc said with a sigh.
He made a deep incision
Under my left rib cage
And plunged inside with gloved hand
And thus, the battle was engaged.
Air was pumped into my belly
To make room for his search
But as the doc’s cold fingers found
The spleen gave a sudden lurch.
“Hold on, please don’t be hasty,”
It said with a cry of pain.
“I’m too attached to my host,
Leave me be, I’ll shrink again.”
“There’s a lymph node here that too has grown
Why not take him instead?
There’s plenty more where he came from
While I’m the only spleen my host gets.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” the surgeon said
The lymph node can tell us a lot.
And removing you would be tricky
And you’re the only one he’s got.”
 So, the lymph node was sacrificed
And the wound was stapled shut
And morphine calms the intense pain
Coming from my gut.