"Oh What A Rogue Am I"

Our model, under the delusion that he is a centaur, is planning to tour the Parthenon. The suitcase contains a pocket model of the edifice, but this is no substitute for Keats' "Ode to a Grecian Urn."

In anticipation of Urnlike joys, he seeks Bacchus in the Logan Airport bar. His equine physiognomy makes couthness impossible, and his hind legs keeps upsetting the martinis.

Indignant, he leaves the bar. His plane is fleeing down the runway. Pursuing it at a sprightly canter, he is eked out by Hyperion in the Fifth.

Unfazed, he returns with his thin volume of Keats to the flight deck in hopes of becoming skylark, but yet the resourceful owners of the Crimson Men's shop have designed tropical wear for every mood, at a pittance a leg.