Crisis?

There is apparently a crisis in modern America concerning poetry; or at least I glean that sentiment from the ever-argumentative internet.  There are too many poets and not enough readers.  The quality of poetry as a whole has declined as the number of poets has risen.  Forgive me if I opt out of this discussion, permanently.  I prefer to live in a culture where poetry is simply a part of life, be it in the form of dichos, Las Mañanitas, or the anguished cry of some scribbler in a movement newspaper; the poetry in names of insects and flowers, in arrullos and hymns and corridos.