As it stands now, Brainard himself occupies a paradoxical position. In the artworld, he is nowhere near the top of the established list of twentieth-century masters. Yet in the poetry world, he is something of a giant, associated with the New York School, who are today acknowledged as one of the most important groups in recent poetry. A great deal, if not most, of his pre-retrospective following has been composed of poets. Perhaps Brainard found more affinity among the small press avant-garde, whose products very often can't achieve the status of commodities as their consumer audience is mostly composed of fellow practitioners.
Poets tend to generate little money from poetry itself, save in comparatively rare cases.
Much small press poetry is given away for free, or exchanged for other poetry. A poet might acquire such volumes for pleasure, inspiration, or any of the other reasons poets read poetry. But the book's inclusion of a Joe Brainard cover or drawing is a bonus, like receiving a work of visual art for free. The commercial valuelessness of poetry is endowed with value, proof of which are the extraordinary prices such volumes, their scarcity abetted by the passage of time, now demand. There is always a market for visual art.