If you visit a big, old cemetery like Woodlawn in the Bronx, ignore the fancy gravestones for a moment and look down, into the grass. You might find big stone letters on squares, scattered as if giants playing Scrabble fought and up-ended the game board. These are cemetery lot markers or occasionally the initials of the families in nearby plots. Like gravestones, they break, shift, wear away, and sink, but offer an intriguing variety of letterforms. They are a typographic grid dropped over the landscape, a permanent Foursquare address. Meet me at the corner of H and K; no rush, I'll be here a while.