The speaker of "Consumer" describes a life spent tidying and preparing, and the poem keeps turning that routine into something stranger. "I make nothing / but order" suggests a person who maintains things but never creates anything new. The speaker gets everything ready "against the ivy," as if holding back the slow creep of nature, and then comes the odd image of "a grave jealous of the kitchen." Death and domestic life seem to be competing, with the kitchen standing for the living, ordinary world.
The emotional center is the line "I was so satisfied, I wept." It's a surprising mix: contentment and grief arrive together, as though being fulfilled makes the speaker feel how little it adds up to. The title, "Consumer," hints at this, since the speaker takes in and uses things without leaving anything behind. The final request, "Give me a good / reason for being," sounds both plain and desperate. The mood is quiet, uneasy, and a little darkly funny.