Arthur Levine is reciting a poem at the club Tonic on the Lower East Side. Triangles of shadow gather over his sunken eyes. He'll explain later how his Russian grandfather headed west when Bolsheviks tried to draft him, but right now his mind is focused on the crowd of 35 Jews, and a few curious gentiles, sitting in the audience. Levine, 34, writes five or 10 poems a sitting and looks like a cross between a young brain surgeon and an upper-echelon Russian gangster, but is in reality just a very well-dressed computer... More >>>