Armantrout’s brief stanzas are skeptical about almost every source of human confidence, trust, hope, joy, strength or belief. I don't think this is true. I think they're skeptical of the forces that variously act on these "human confidences".
Why is it that just because they don't offer the preferred consolation tents with pitiable decor of most poetry, they have to be read as somehow unfeeling? What I think they withhold is reassurance, which is not the same thing as distrusting humanity.