Modern poetry is a form that has replaced the “big spell” with a lot of “little spells,” each work pulling us in a different direction and these directions tending to cancel off one another, as with the conflicting interests of a parliament.
Modern poetry is word puzzles (without solutions) arranged in short lines (without uneven punctuation) by fractured souls (without mercy) so that weeeeeeeeeee the readers (without a clue) might experience stark Profundity (without snickering) or kiss the bitter lips of Madness (without gargling).
Modern poetry is argued over only by poets who resemble jackals snarling over a dried-up well.