"Everyone is having a great time. Literally everyone....and you come along and take a shit in the middle of the living room."
I just reiterated a pithy precis of every single time I've made poets angry over the last seven years--regarding things I've posted on Yahoogroups listserves or on this blog or (in some unfortunate cases) said at readings.
And I'm presuming that the anonymous person who fired the shotgun blast of the quote above is quite pleased to speak a version of the Truth to me--knowing that he/she (though I'm certain it's a "he") speaks for lots of wronged people (and as I've been re-learning, if I'm critical/questioning of others and they respond with anger and hatred, it's all my fault and none of theirs).
Eventually, we'll all leave the Earth behind and our poems will remain--to be evaluated on their enduring qualities when the specific virtues and sins of the poets writing them are long forgotten.
That should matter more than who is currently valued as the best-liked, harder-than-hardest-working, and/or most commercially successful person sitting in the musical chairs of what's still referred to as the Southern California poetry community.