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.