A speaker puts on a record, hoping music will quiet their mind, and ends up covering their ears instead. The poem is about the first raw stretch of grief, when nothing helps and even comfort feels like an intrusion.
The speaker's thoughts "whirl and whirl" like water in a toilet bowl. It's an ordinary, slightly ugly image, and that fits: grief here isn't beautiful or dignified, just dizzying and hard to escape. The thoughts drown out the music, and the speaker can't even remember why they put it on, which shows how disoriented they are.
The last stanza turns bitter. "Why must there be happiness / When my world just died?" suggests the speaker resents a world that keeps going. Repeating "My Daisy, my Daisy" sounds like someone saying the name over and over to make it real. Then the short lines, "is gone / For good," land flatly. The poem never says who or what Daisy is, so it leaves a mood of numb, stunned loss.