I really like this poem:
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/colloquy/
It has, in its muted skepticism, a ring of truth, the kind of truth the preacher in Ecclesiastes would have acknowledged. Skepticism can be the back door into a true faith. Then again, it may be an avenue to suicide. What we can’t know doesn’t have to imprison us, but in my view, we need a glimpse above the sun. Skepticism is sometimes a dull mirror catching transcendent rays.
I’m not sure Weldon Kees ever traced those rays to their source.
untaught 
I quoted a line from your analysis on my FB page because it was downright brilliant. Hope you don’t mind.
… off the cuff? he talks to his cat like I do … lol … his cat’s desire is to eat to live; it sounds like WK is not sure as to the reasons for life as the world withers away except that we need to keep ‘eating’ even if we don’t know all the answers …? All is vanity unless you know Christ .. and that He knows you.
It’s a fine poem. I’m reading it in the yellow New Yorker Book of Poems. p 134. The poet brings his troubles, about depression and death, to the cat and the wise cat ignores them. Get on with life, and give me my food. But it’s left open whether the content cat or the anxious poet are right.
Good lines; “”webs on the lawn where the leaves end”, “the customary torments”, “why the world thins out and perishes/ as it has done for me”. It rhymes as well, which is good.