Can anyone interpret the meaning of this poem and explain whether it’s well written or not and why:

for seconds,
the fickle loves of Daisy Jones
were as trifling
as the spike of snow that blurs
out and melts under a gentle,
placid feel
of my
wool treaded mat
stumbled hearts and crippled demeanors
all twisted into
a fine maroon
in a glass where
hearts burn gold;

for minutes,
the relapses will fortify
and take my darling’s breath
away, again, from me
tick, tock, tick, tock
there goes the last milligram of
brim
landing on a mound of
feces, at the
pet sematary, as we toast to the
groom and the bouquet gets
disheveled under the hands
of plutocrats whom want a smear of
print on the satin
gown;

—
More stanzas
—

for centuries,
is it the 20th time the trace
of my body lines so hideous,
molded and lined indecorously
by the disheveled brush bristles
dipped in Merlot
and grit
that finally
stain my canvas, purge my organs,
and subjugate my soul
til’ i turned into a mere
fox —

for the 4K major motion film
that they call
classic.