The final poem, “The Cats” (February 15), is an entirely different proposition. This daemoniac six-stanza poem in quatrains is one of his most effective weird verses—a wild, uncontrolled spasm bringing out all the shuddersome mystery of the feline species: Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal, Howling and lean in the glare of the moon, Screaming the future with mouthings infernal, Yelling the burden of Pluto’s red rune.
