�������t¶��

I flashed back to Marilyn Monroe on another May night in Gotham, doing similar mincing steps in a similar shimmering dress she was sewn into, when she suspired “Happy Birthday” to J.F.K.

But at four o'clock there was a rim, A circled edge of rainbow color Which suspired, widened and narrowed under your gaze: It was the phantasy of straining eyes, Or land—and it was land.

Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The Artist poor to Calendars aspires, But of the Stuff the Publisher puts out Most in the Paper Basket soon suspires.

As he jumped, the girl, Alexa, started, and a cry escaped her parted lips; it was a sigh rather than an exclamation, the voice of a crushed flower suspiring its last vital breath.

"But times are bad!" he would suspire in moments of depression.