Five short lines, one sentence, and a lot packed in. The speaker is drinking, and does it "to chance and to excess," as if raising a glass to luck while also admitting there's no moderation in it. The odd reason given is "to see myself home," which turns the drink into a strange kind of guide. Getting drunk is supposed to make the way home harder, yet here it seems to be the thing that carries the speaker there.
The home is "her rose of a clock," and that image is the heart of the poem. A rose suggests love, beauty, and something that opens and fades. A clock suggests time passing, perhaps a waiting hour or a deadline. Putting them together, the poem hints at a loved one who is tied to time, and a speaker who is drifting toward her, unsteady and a little reckless.
The mood is tender but woozy. There's warmth and longing, with a faint edge of risk. The title, "Convolution," fits: the route is twisting, and so are the feelings.