Lowell takes a long, cold look at himself, his art, his life, and his longing to break free of the chains that bind him to the past, and then reveals himself in "Skunk Hour." If we look for Lowell in every stanza, we see that he has immortalized himself in this confessional poem he chose to place at the end of his Life Studies. Does it provide a satisfactory resolution to the poems of the book? I believe that it does when you see that this poem is the most candid revelation of Lowell's life in the series.
In the first stanza Lowell writes of an aristocratic, possibly crazy with old age, lonely woman who lives in her "Spartan cottage" on Nautilus Island. Lowell is an aristocrat: he's very familiar with being an island-type figure in the world of poetry and in society as well. Throughout Life Studies he has shown us the details of being from a very well known family, the lonliness he felt when his uncle was dying, the embarrassment his father caused him, and the difficult assessment in "Waking in the Blue" of having a mental disorder. All these aspects of his life have a degree of isolation involved.
The details of the woman that follow in the second stanza speaks of one who "thirsts" for the old days, the past, the "has-beens". Lowell fears that this describes him as a poet in his earlier years, and attempts to break away from meter and rime, although in "Skunk Hour" we find he is still riming some of his lines; however, these are not conventional rimes. It is more open-verse compared to his earlier writings. The yawl that he references was auctioned off could represent that spiffy, harmonious and sharp style that he is giving up now in order to embrace the poetry that the Beat poets were writing. The red fox stain, perhaps "blood," is the residue remaining of killing off of poetry as he knew it.
The "fairy decorator" refers to the changes that are being made to his place of comfort. The gaudy orange represents the "in your face" style of Ginsberg and his peers, and their lack of reverence for artistic poetry material. Lowell is telling us about his work, his shop, the sharp awl that is used to place holes in a material. Lowell's style is becoming like the awl: he is writing personal information for the world to read, and in doing so he is puncturing himself to allow the real Lowell to flow.
The next stanza, "One dark night," is about voyeurism. As he describes spying on lovers making out in their cars, he is really talking about his own voyeurism realized as he writes of his family in the previous poems. He doesn't just look at them, though, he writes about them. One could argue that he has taken a voyeurs approach to looking at himself and writing what he sees. He concludes "My mind's not right." This is definitely true for Lowell.
In the following stanza what stands out is his statement: "I myself am hell." Another confessional statement about Lowell himself - his life is hell. Hell is a place of punishment and Lowell struggled with feelings of guilt and inadequacy as he tries to live up to the standards of the family legacy.
At last! The varmint. Skunks marching up Main Street with their white stripes and red eyes underneath the church. Lowell, as skunk, dares to take up the sacred hymnal of the church (poetry) and defile it by writing against the standards, against conventional poetry, no longer respecting the poets of years gone by. He thinks he stinks as a poet with his new style, but march on to the new, contemporary swell of the poetry of his peers.
The last stanza he stands on the back steps, his own backyard and breathes the rich air. Is it rich with skunk stench? The skunk goes about her business oblivious of the voyeur and standing her ground - "will not scare." The skunk/the poet will not be frightened away by the onlooker. She remains strong in her survival. Lowell is attempting to survive; he will not give in to those who criticize his work. He will continue to look through his own life, his garbage can, for sustenance.
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