I just realized that Poetry magazine is essentially a pulp, the Analog of poetry...pretty much the same size...originating from (roughly) the same era (or rather Poetry began peaking at the time of Campbell's "heyday", back when Analog was Astounding, coming from a tradition and lexicon of poetry rooted in High Modernism for the former and Gernsbackisms for the latter; moreover, they both have the utmost faith in their respective lexicons and really don't see the need to alter their courses; things have been JUST FINE and IGNORE the barbarians at all costs!
Would have been interesting to see how long Poetry would have doddered on if that old loon didn't give the magazine 100 million dollars. Now Poetry gets a huge dose of hydrocortizone, or methadone, or whatever. I'm sure it will zombie along for the next 100 years and provide great kindling after the nuclear winter.
Which will be the first (or rather, next) of the science fiction digests to fold?