I think Alt-Lit is sort of a backlash at left-brained upbringing. Poetry, at its core, doesn't 'make sense' to left-brainers because it isn't required to have form or structure and may not follow grammatical norms. Like abstract paintings, poetry can be a mystery to its readers. Poetry is flexible and adaptable to the visions of the artist, which is the true nature of art, and since so much of the world has fallen into the realm of the internet, a new breed of poetry arises. It's loosely called Alt-Lit, with a lot of emphasis being placed on internet interactions. A reputable--if you will--blog about Alt-Lit, Internet Poetry, describes this thing as...
posts “screenshots of poetry being distributed with guerilla tactics on the internet”: poetry as Wikipedia vandalism, tweets, blog comments, etc (read the original doctrine).Among this new genre of poetry, a specific artist has inspired me in a very peculiar fashion to document my life, even at its most mundane. Because I'm Purple is a collection of works that spans random ideas, longings, common daily occurrences, and anything else the creator finds particularly worthy. The inclusion of texts, emails, instant messages, and various other basic but somehow deeper thoughts, are reflected through the art. What captures one's life in 1st world society more closely than this?
Internet Poetry now publishes with a broader idea of what “internet poetry” can be, and is open to the many forms poetry can take online and community it can build.
Texting conversations can kill relationships as the blunt unspoken words instantly traded back-and-forth can escalate emotions in false directions of intentions. Love can exist via a phone and this is strangely alienating. Because I'm Purple does a spectacular job of revealing this. By mockingly prodding at the false romanticism created via instant-messaging, a sense of disbanded heartache gets conveyed to the readers of the poem. Image-macros of prairie dogs take on the background for a perverse thought or desire, making that thought both a byproduct and machination of the interaction we have with the Internet. It is almost a strange love-affair where we are mental addicts to an illustrious drug. One piece that is particularly interesting pokes at this strange love-affair by inserting a new medium of transaction.