What is this strange land of fruit and fruit related shillings?

I like the conversation and love of poets pushing poetry into pOeTrEEE or other new forms thereof.

But I seem to write and craft poems everyone could (rightly?) call mundane and SoQish and full of hatred for the Grander Experiments.

I don't understand it. Somebody remedy or shoot me. Or tell me to give up and just write fiction.