The poetic occasion: surprise art?!

Here I will write you a poem. No references, bitch!

The Chrysanthemum

What hundred petals are these what manifold
majesty this what hard mineral scent
buried in your lifegiving promise buried
in this sintering of autumn.

You will burn beneath ice
I will see to it personally

so promises winter
whose withering grasp must run in advance
grey gales and frost
who cannot even
approach
your strong stems