ðə pˈoʊɪt tˈʊk ˌʌp ðə nˈɑːvəlz ˈoʊpənɪŋ sˈɛntəns"aɪ wʌz lˈiːnɪŋ ɐɡˈɛnst ðə bˈɑːɹ ɪn ɐ spˈiːkiːzi ˌɔn fˈɪftisˈɛkənd stɹˈiːt"æt ðə stˈɑːɹt ʌv hɪz ˈoʊn "wˈʌn dʒˈænjuːˌɛɹi nˈaɪntiːnhˈʌndɹɪd θˈɜːɾi nˈaɪn": "aɪ sˈɪt ɪn wˈʌn ʌvðə dˈaɪvz slˈæʃ ˌɔn fˈɪftisˈɛkənd stɹˈiːt…æz ðə klˈɛvɚ hˈoʊps ɛkspˈaɪɚ slˈæʃ əvə lˈoʊ dɪsˈɑːnɪst dˈɛkeɪd".
The poet took up the novel's opening sentence ("I was leaning against the bar in a speakeasy on Fifty-second Street") at the start of his own "1 January 1939": "I sit in one of the dives/ On Fifty-second Street…As the clever hopes expire/ Of a low dishonest decade".