All Comments on 'The Man Who Wasn't There'

"Still that dream was solid enough/

to hang our rings upon/

back in the kitten eyed part of love/

where every thing takes on special meaning,/

this song, our song, secret handshakes, open doors."

I don't want to pan the rest of the poem, but this stanza is it for me, the golden bough of sentimentality, which I ada adore. Maybe forcing out forms leads to a lot of mediocre but it obviously leads to strong lines, stanzas, word pairings that you can always recycle down the line. I'd re-write the rest of the poem as the first stanza and finish with this one above as the second. A punch in the gut of sentimentality.