Month

At the trendy southern tip of the High Line In a converted warehouse Without stage and chairs, and modest sets We patrons of the theater mill about the floor As spotlights shine on the actors Playing brief scenes of passion, anger, fear, Grief That end when the lights dim out; The actors also confront us From time to time The next day On the drive home My wife searches online and finds A restaurant called The Little

My fantasy baseball team, the Fern Hill Herring, is in first place by half a point. Fantasy baseball is possible because actual baseball can be quantified very granularly. These days, every at-bat, every hit, every stolen base, in fact every freaking PITCH, is observed, recorded, entered into a data base, distributed into the domain of 1s and 0s that make up the Internet, and then sliced and diced and redistributed t