** Maybe they could be transferred to Putting It Together, which could stand a lot of improving, especially its monosyllabic non-book, which cries out for festoons of Guare. And what about some Cole Porter tunes, too, to replace the high-bitch Sondheim indictments we've heard too many times, and the recycled Sondheim cutouts we never wanted to hear twice? Because the songs aren't well chosen, and Paul Raiman's shoddy musical direction doesn't show them at their best, the evening makes Sondheim's work seem dull, a patch of barren ground heavily overworked. Nor does anything about the show make sense as drama, as staging, or as human interaction. The one thing that should be rescued from this sinking Atlantis is the person whose name keeps it afloat: Carol Burnett is funny, alert,vibrant-voiced, and apparently possessed of more energy than her four colleagues combined. For a finale, she takes "Not Getting Married Today" at a slow, steady clip, getting the comic juice out of every line. If Cole Porter were alive, he'd write her a show.