One day in late summer 1982, twenty years after the flower shop first

delivered them, they will stop coming, but in 1968 Joe DiMaggio still has

half a dozen long-stemmed roses placed by Marilyn's crypt every Tuesday,

Thursday and Saturday. By Monday, June 3rd, the fresh-cut bunch left 

over the weekend has done its job. The year will be remembered for the

scent of flowers and gunpowder and a song with a passing reference to

Joltin' Joe. We're desperate and desperation makes us larger than life in

each other's eyes though life itself is not as large as we picture it. By this

time next year some of us will be packing for the moon, the rest of us will

be driving out to the country, and only the wounded will remember where

they were today.