Some cats are wiry others fat away
this one wary that one behind naive
a cat for all seasons for every girl
and all good boys out on the town.
The Falstaffian cat scats doo-doo-pow
night’s toil scratched in a kit lit box
drops his slow slurs keeps us a lilt
trolls nixie but in the end refuses.
The cat who comments with nothing
to say falls late into Trouble Tavern
the cat who daily cancels negates
good counsel and drinks all down.
All this cats lie about and lie in wait
for the day is hot long and the night
yet weary the stop cease and go of it
infinite but as quick as this conscript.
The Coming of the Toads 