Bemoaning the proliferation of what I will call instant communications holds a curious place in communicative discourse. Voicing a disdain for these methods of communication can (as far as I can tell) serve either or both of two possibilities: 1) informing people of the vapidity of instant communications, and/or 2) attempting to affect a change.
It would be hard to find anyone who knows what the portmanteau 'blog' portmanteaus, that doesn't already know of the inanity instant communication seems to automatically produce. And yet, Glock spends half of her essay expounding upon just that fact. Perhaps she believes it will reach an audience unaware of instant communication—though why these people need to be dissuaded from a form of communication they are still astoundingly unaware of (and thereby will almost certainly never come into contact with) I'm not sure.
It seems then that Glock can only be trying to affect a change in personal expression in the age of instant communication, namely to excoriate the resultant degenerative qualities where (I suppose) the essential human spirit, or at least Glock's moralist sensibilities are concerned.
Here Glock proffers poetry as a solution, in effect to take our lascivious porpoise dreams, obfuscated them, liniate them, blend them with equal parts rhyme and meter, and finally (and hopefully) a healthy dose of revision (read: 'consideration', or 'restraint'). I will simply ignore the fact that revision in and of itself could be a perfectly viable solution to the aforesaid problem, if for no other reason than Glock herself does.
I love poetry, I can't imagine that anyone reading this essay (or indeed this response) doesn't. As such I'm willing to foist any verse, my own or any other's, on friends and family at the most unwelcome and inopportune times (through blogs, even). They don't much care for it. I don't think it is a difficult argument to make that poetry has a definitively limited appeal. Whatever the reason or ramifications, poetry has successfully failed to gain admiration in the public at large. Blogs and twitter, however stupid, don't share that problem, as indeed Glock points out in epigraph.
So then, Glock's essay has ultimately done two things: 1) informed us of a problem of which we were already aware by belittling what's popular for what we all hate about it, and 2) proposing an impossible solution to a problem that will never go away and is, if anything, getting worse.
So, in review, yes, poetry is great (we know), and no, it is not the solution to any problems (at least not this one).
