I wonder if you read much of the poetry that's written these days. Of course a lot of it is crap, just like most poetry from any time, but I think you'd be really surprised and pleased by some. Check it out.
Robert Pinsky posts a new poem on his Slate.com page every week. They're always pretty good, and you can see them here:
http://www.slate.com/?id=3944&;cp=333
3.
A recent one has one of my favorite bits of poetry ever:
how scrufty, how
anciently scabby
we, he and I;
how worn, how
self-devoured,
balls and all,
balls, balls and all.