A Strange Host Called Poetry

The Watou Summers The Watou poetry-summers, which take place every year in the West Flemish village of that name close to the French border, knock the usual tedium of a summer in the country clear out of sight. Each year the organiser and poet Gwy Mandelinck combines poetry, visual art and the existing architecture in…

Rack

You’re ironing. With your foot turned, planted inward, you seem contemplative. The instant that you threaten me, nose, lip go up. They bare a set of teeth. Your head turns red and you besprinkle royally the suit that I was in. Your hottest innerside steams down on me. It is a rack that board, you…