The poem imagines the sky as a blank, indifferent face looking down on a distracted, worn-out human world. Its opening "meh" sets the tone: the cosmos isn't impressed by us. Below it, people cram "whole lives" into the few hours before sleep, while insects keep up their nightly chanting. The pun on "anti / bodies of work" makes our efforts feel oddly hostile to themselves, as if all our busyness works against us.
The speaker sounds weary and quietly alarmed. The moonlight "denies / ever knowing the moon" suggests a world of reflections and secondhand experience, cut off from the real thing. Then the mood darkens: the lives we're missing "bloat like corpses / as species dwindle," linking our distraction to ecological loss. The last line is the sharpest. Calling the sky "the void / with better branding" mocks the way we dress up emptiness as meaning. The result is wry, bleak, and a little accusing, yet still alert to the natural world's night noise.