Underneath its jokes, this is a breakup poem. The speaker plans to take black ink and a razor and cut someone out of his "history book," swapping their portrait for an angel. It's a violent, almost childish way of erasing a person, and it suggests how much the loss still hurts.
Then the poem veers into nonsense. A chicken puts out a burning blender, and a cowboy with a cauliflower ear talks to his boots, listing his organs as if they were love discoveries. The boots answer like a patient therapist or a lover: "Mmm-hmm," "Yesssss." The scene is funny, but it also mocks how strangely intimate and self-revealing love can be.
The mood is deadpan, scattered, and sad underneath. Small, ordinary details, like Susie Lake and the party store, sit beside the surreal ones, as if the speaker's mind can't hold a straight line. The last line, "And sorrow was her baby," lands quietly and suggests the real feeling the humor has been circling.