The speaker asks for a kind of escape: a "forever eternity" of "now and no" rather than "later and yes." They want to be made "a green one," someone who won't be saddened by the small sorrows the poem lists, like flowers drifting past dead seagulls. Green seems to stand for a gentle, untroubled state, and the request breaks off mid-thought ("or....", "just make me/"), as if the speaker can't quite finish asking.
Then the scene shifts to people laughing and crying in bathtubs, arms hanging over the sides, smiling at walls that smile back "smugly / and serenely." The walls seem to know "what was what / and who who," while the speaker admits to knowing nothing except "this." The final lines say the reader knows it too, because everything was "pale floating green." The mood is dreamy and drifting, a little giddy and a little sad, caught between wanting peace and not understanding what to ask for.