Poetry is the dark matter of literature, of everything.  When others edit, market, create cover graphics or even celebrate verse for the poet, I think, they do a disservice to poetry.  Amazon should not sell it, the school teacher or priest should not quote it, and the old bum sitting on the pedestrian bridge with an empty upturned “Thailand” ball cap that his wife keeps trying to throw out, should not be allowed to beg for versification compensation.  It’s 80% of the universe and we cannot describe it.  Let it gush and roil unfettered and be a fine madness.  “You got a million to tide me over for life, Bub?  Thanks, kindly anyway”