I recently sat in a room listening to a certain eminent litterateuse enquire of the air why anyone, in 2001, for God's sake, would want to write like Louis MacNeice. If you have to ask. Not great, maybe, but certainly good. The generation above produced a handful of poets who attained heights that very few in ours will equal, if any do at all. I could go on, and for quite a bit.
Professionalism is what happens when ambition drifts away from the poem and towards the poet.
I don't blame them. After NewGen, reviewing got much worse. I've been back and had a look. It shouldn't be read as anything but a snapshot of the author's psychopathology. I know, because I wrote a ton of them.