last looks at the lilacs, by wallace stevens

To what good, in the alleys of the lilacs,
O caliper, do you scratch your buttocks
And tell the divine ingenue, your companion,
That this bloom is the bloom of soap
And this fragrance the fragrance of vegetal?

Do you suppose that she cares a tick,
In this hymeneal air, what it is
That marries her innocence thus,
So that her nakedness is near,
Or that she will pause at scurrilous words?

Poor buffo!  Look at the lavender
And look your last and look steadily,
And say how it comes that you see
Nothing but trash and that you no longer feel
Her body quivering in the Floreal

Toward the cool night and its fantastic star,
Prime paramour and belted paragon,
Well-booted, rugged, arrogantly male,
Patron and imager of the gold Don John,
Who will embrace her before summer comes.

(from Stevens, Collected Poetry & Prose, p. 39)

*     *     *     *     *

Is Stevens saying here that Business looks at the world of nature, of plants, as the raw material of 'products' and that this view robs the natural world of its beauty and poetry?  The manufacturer takes out his 'calipers' to measure and quantify the lilacs and the lavender.  The end result of his machinations will be 'trash' - empty bottles and soap wrappers strewn beside the lake.  Something the late twentieth century has been all too familiar with.  Nature's body of beauty no longer quivers with her own life and incandescence when she is reduced thus.  But the virile poet 'will embrace her before summer comes,' and she will marry 'the divine ingenue', the imagination, and that will do some 'good.'