By Phibby Venable An angel was perched delicately on the straight back chair in the corner, but everyone pretended not to see her. At least it appeared that way to fifteen – year old Katie, who couldn’t take her eyes off the golden wings and slim figure. “Mama, don’t you…
by David Hutt bebop jazz never bought a transatlantic ticket so I am no beat. I listen to well-weathered guitars in dive bars where people dance with razor-cut smiles and open mouths like tombs all gurning and contorting to life. I listen to poets in ties. I listen to men…