A Mildly Gruesome Tale

When I read a book on neurology,
There were some things it didn’t explain,
So, upon a whim, I decided
To purchase a human brain.

In a somewhat shady alley
Was a shady man with shady shades
Who sold me a fine and fresh specimen,
Plus a curious clamp and some oddly-shaped blades.

I snuck home with it in my jacket,
Which now has an unusual stain,
And placed on my desk, with great care,
Three hundred quid's worth of brain.

I held it in place with the curious clamp
And plunged straight into grey matter;
I wish I had put some newspaper down—
I didn’t expect so much splatter.

I admired the basal ganglia,
The colliculus was superior;
But as for the hippocampus,
I’ve never seen anything drearier.

It sat there and did very little
But ooze and occasionally drip;
I’d have saved time, had the book told me
It was neither camp nor hip.