by‘ PAMELA ’SEXSMITH " \ p

The Literary Section of the Cadre is pleased to be “able to share some of the poetry of Douglas Gallant with the university community as a whole. '

Douglas is an Island born poet of Irish and French background. He calls himself "a professional socializer"

Brautigan.(the latter who wrote the well known Trout Fishing in America and watermellpnng§uqar)

I very much enjoyed the unaffected warmth and mellowness of Doug's poetry, and as well was able to read and appreciate his rather beautiful and' sentimental love verse.

TUES. APRIL 2.1974 Page 9

In closing I shall once again ote Douglas, who said to me in a rather serious tone. so that one knew that he was expressing a rather heavy bit of Philosophy)

"I hate cats. perfer them to frogs, If‘I had my way I'd feed cats to dogs"

and a "drinker by nature",

and says his life centers around, "sex.dope.cheap thrills 'and killing time". Doug can

be found any night of the

week relaxing in the can of

the Charlottetown Hotel.

" His favourite poets are Spike Milligan and Richard

nous n

WRITINGV ROCKING CHAIR LAMPOSTS & SNOWFLAKES

It feels good to be writting' When the wind of summer ***Lamposts are memorials*******

again rainstorms ***They light your way in fogs** , Blows the droplets everywhere ***They Support Young juveniles* D Good Inlike to Sit out on the **********and drunks********'k***

orch ***And the 're toilets for our*

P Y

In my Old rocking Chair **************dogs**************

I love the little tingle ***They light your way down*****

When the droplets hit my face ********darkened streets******** ***Till you reach home*f******** *********sweet home************* ***They give you power for****** *****electric-type things******* ***And wire for your telephone** ***If all the lamposts were cut* *************down*************** ***And planted underground******

\ ***you'd have no place for punks **********Or drunks*************

***And no toilet for your ****** ***********hounds***************

It's’like waking up next to someone you love

the morning after the first . time , There Is no fresher feeling And finding that she is still There is no better place there.

I've been many other places I've seen many other things And there are few things anywhere that match. _

The joy the raindrops bring

QUESTIONS AT YOU

What do you do on that inevitable day when you run out of words

All your adventures have been recounted so

many times the people you are recounting

them to correct your mistakes in them

All your stories have brought their last chuckle

All the poetry you memorized in high school

escapes you which isn't

too bad

because

you've recited to her the laSt four nights in a row already

Be yourself?

Let it bleed?

Show her the side you've been hiding?

Don't be ridiculous

Find another girl who hasn't heard your poems Witty stories and

best lines.