The poem begins as a loose comment on writers and their habits: everyone tries a bit more than they do best, yet real talent still shows through. Then the speaker turns a little sour. If a poem feels empty or dishonest, "barren of truthfulness," and reading it hurts your eyes, the image of wading across a "tonsured head" suggests something bald, bare, and faintly ridiculous. The speaker's advice is simple: stop reading.
What follows is the warm part. Instead of struggling with bad poetry, close the book, turn off the light, and find the person you're lucky enough to share your life with. The title, "Goodbye to All That," fits this shift, since it waves off literary disappointment in favor of intimacy.
The mood is casual, wry, and affectionate. The speaker sounds relaxed and a bit teasing, and the poem ends on a quiet picture of two people reading in bed, suggesting that closeness matters more than any book.