The Spleen of U-----
Mr. Utterson was a man of a rugged countenance
but so would any of us be, dear reader,
watching a friend disintegrate
like that biblical shadow,
Lilith in Dys, once willing to be equal
of men, then queen of the unholy
urges & oddly nourished by evil
appetites. Were Jekyll but a fallen
woman U----- could ask, Wench:
have you been entered
by a demon?, but instead he must wear
a gentleman's aloof cheer
& a ragged beard the only shadow
darker than the night he walks with E-----.
What trifle could U----- be
about at this hour?
They say men aren't affected
by matters of spleen as women
are who swoon in the whalebone
scaffolding all the time
but then what is that dull ache
near U-----'s stomach about J-----?
This is sympathy among gentry,
allowing the accident one knows
will happen--arms crossed,
look wistful until Hyde bursts
into the room & shakes them awake.
It reminds me of something
Lilith's favorite nephew said,
arrogantly squinting into God's face:
Am I my brother's keeper?
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