The poem moves quickly through three small images: a single gunshot far away, the sound of men laughing, and the moon sinking into a cabaret. Nothing is explained. The violence and the laughter sit side by side, as if both are just part of the night. The moon "sinking into" a cabaret is a odd, lovely picture, and it suggests the sky itself being swallowed by noise and entertainment.
Then the speaker steps in with a surprising line: "I love any treat of a heart / able to bleed." The word "treat" is playful, almost greedy, yet what it praises is vulnerability. Judging by the contrast with the gunshot, the speaker seems to value anything that can still feel pain, in a setting where people might laugh it off. The mood is shadowy and a little unsettled, but also quietly tender. The poem doesn't judge the men or the shot. It simply holds onto the fragile fact of being alive and capable of hurt.