Three short stanzas, and a mood of tense, weary exposure. The speaker talks in the plural, "we," as if a group of people running a business has been forced to close. The title, "Crackdown," suggests some kind of authority clamping down, though the poem never says who or why. Judging by the title, the shutdown may be a response to force or enforcement, but that's an inference rather than something stated.
The imagery is what stays with you. A "meat-dark night" is oddly physical and a little unsettling, as if the darkness were heavy, raw, and bodily. Then comes the sharpest idea: business keeps "us naked / in a rich city." The speaker seems to feel vulnerable and unprotected while wealth surrounds them. The last lines add a sense of exhaustion: they have already used up a year's worth of fear. The feeling isn't panic so much as fatigue, a dread that has been rationed and nearly spent.