CONTENTS
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      10
     
    
   
   
    
     
      11
     
    
   
   
    
     
      12
     
    
   
   
    
     
      13
     
    
   
   
    
     
      HOMELESSNESS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      POLITICS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      SEAT
      SALE
     
    
   
   
    
     
      KISS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      CHOICE
      CUTS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      EVENT
      TENT
     
    
   
   
    
     
      DISCS
      OF
      FURY
     
    
   
   
    
     
      SPORTS
     
    
   
   
    
     
        
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
        
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Editorial
      22:
      Make
      her
      laugh
      at
      that.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      I
      parked
      my
      car
      in
      a
      snowbank
     
     
      in
      the
      greater
      metropolitan
      area
      of
     
     
      Charlottetown
      today.
      As
      I
      searched
      for
     
     
      change
      for
      the
      metre,
      a
      man
      in
      a
      blue
     
     
      snowsuit
      -
      it
      was
      that
      cold
      -
      asked
      me:
     
    

    
     
      “Sir,
      where
      can
      I
      buy
      a
      ham-
     
     
      mock?”
      °
     
    

    
     
      This
      is
      an
      excellent
      question
     
     
      and
      I
      have
      been
      repeating
      it
      to
      myself
      all
     
     
      afternoon.
      The
      question
      helps
      me
      to
     
     
      quantify
      how
      much
      I
      hate
      the
      winter.
     
    

    
     
      A
      lot.
     
    

    
     
      I
      appreciate
      some
      things,
      the
     
     
      beauty
      of
      ice
      encased
      trees
      for
      example
     
     
      -
      shimmeringly
      intricate
      and
      complex
     
     
      sculptures.
      My
      admiration
      lasts
      until
      I
     
     
      find
      my
      piece
      of
      shit
      Chevy
      Nova
     
     
      encased
      in
      ice
      too.
      I
      have
      to
      kick
      at
      the
     
     
      chunks
      of
      ice
      carefully
      so
      I
      don’t
      put
      my
     
     
      foot
      through
      the
      side
      of
      the
      car
      again.
     
    

    
     
      I
      am
      tired
      of
      the
      wind,
      the
     
     
      snow,
      the
      ice
      and
      the
      middle-aged
     
     
      women
      draped
      in
      hideous
      mounds
      of
      fur
     
     
      pelts.
      I
      have
      lost
      my
      winter
      gloves,
      and
     
     
      it
      being
      winter
      I
      cannot
      buy
      new
      ones.
     
     
      Winter
      clothes
      are
      only
      sold
      in
      the
      fall.
      I
     
     
      am
      worn
      down
      by
      seeing
      student
      money
     
     
      and
      effort
      thrown
      away
      (1).
      I
      am
      weary
     
     
      of
      the
      shock
      of
      discovering
      that
      today,
     
     
      like
      yesterday
      and
      the
      day
      before
      that,
     
     
      the
      UPEI
      campus
      has
      no
      underground
     
     
      tunnels,
      but
      does
      have
      some
      parking
      lots
     
     
      which
      are
      closer
      to
      Prince
      County
      than
     
     
      they
      are
      to
      my
      classes.
     
    

    
     
      But
      fuck
      all
      that
      -
      the
      winter,
      the
     
     
      midterms,
      the
      papers,
      the
      what-nots,
     
     
      what-have-yous,
      and
      the
      where-it’s-ats.
     
     
      All
      of
      it.
      Despite
      the
      wind,
      the
      snow,
      the
     
     
      over-achieving
      janitorial
      staff,
      the
      pro-
     
     
      fessors
      delirious
      with
      academia,
      and
      my
     
     
      poor
      rusted
      Nova,
      I’m
      trying
      very
      hard
     
     
      to
      remind
      myself
      that
      it’s
      still
      more
      good
     
     
      than
      bad.
     
    

    
     
      There
      are
      a
      few
      things
      to
      cheer
     
     
      for,
      if
      you
      think
      hard
      enough.
      Spring
      for
     
     
      example,
      even
      though
      it’s
      mostly
      a
     
     
      mythical
      season
      on
      PEI.
      There’s
      rock
     
     
      and
      roll:
      Port
      Citizen,
      Windom
      Earle,
     
     
      The
      Monoxides
      and
      Eyes
      for
      Telescopes
     
     
      so
      far
      this
      week.
      There’s
      alcohol:
      I
      rec-
     
     
      ommend
      Propeller
      Bitter
      (from
      a
     
     
      Halifax
      micro-brewery)
      if
      you
      can
      get
     
     
      your
      frozen
      little
      mitts
      on
      the
      stuff.
     
     
      Cheer
      for
      Stephan
      (2)
      too,
      it’s
      tough
      I
     
     
      know,
      but
      someone
      should
      -
      the
      poor
     
     
      filthy
      bastard.
      And
      there’s
      ass,
      let’s
      not
     
     
      forget
      ass
      (3).
     
    

    
     
      And
      then
      there’s
      The
      Cadre
     
     
      which
      should
      always,
      and
      as
      frequently
     
     
      as
      possible,
      be
      cheered
      for.
      More
      specif-
     
    
   
   
    
     
      ically
      there’s
      the
      upcoming
      poetry
      edi-
     
     
      tion
      which
      you
      should
      all
      submit
      poems
     
     
      for.
      All
      of
      you.
      Really.
      Because.
      it’s
      a
     
     
      more
      constructive
      outlet
      than
      letting
      the
     
     
      air
      out
      of
      your
      professors’
      tires
      or
      going
     
     
      on
      a
      month
      long
      bender
      or
      dropping
      out
     
     
      of
      school
      so
      close
      to
      the
      end
      and
      moving
     
     
      to
      New
      Zealand
      to
      herd
      sheep
      and
      live
      in
     
     
      a
      little
      cabin
      far
      away
      from
      society,
     
     
      cities
      and
      people
      and
      .
      .
      .
      actually
      that
     
     
      doesn’t
      seem
      so
      bad.
      Not
      much
      snow
      in
     
     
      New
      Zealand.
     
    

    
     
      So
      I’m
      telling
      all
      of
      this
      to
      the
     
     
      girl
      (or
      woman
      rather,
      as
      I
      am
      always
     
     
      and
      forever
      politically
      correct)
      who’s
     
     
      selling
      me
      coffee.
      I
      don’t
      think
      she’s
     
     
      really
      listening,
      or
      if
      she
      is,
      she
      doesn’t
     
     
      know
      what
      I’m
      talking
      about.
      She’s
     
     
      laughing.
      She
      asks:
     
    

    
     
      -
      “So
      what
      about
      the
      guy
      looking
     
     
      for
      a
      hammock?
      What
      did
      you
      tell
      him?”
     
    

    
     
      The
      thing
      is,
      I
      have
      no
      idea
     
     
      where
      you’d
      buy
      a
      hammock,
      even
      in
     
     
      the
      summer.
      So
      I
      told
      him
      that
      he
      asks
      a
     
     
      good
      question,
      which
      is
      not
      a
      good
     
     
      answer.
      He
      explained
      that
      he
      figured
      it
     
     
      would
      be
      cheaper
      to
      buy
      a
      hammock
      in
     
     
      the
      winter.
     
    

    
     
      Suddenly,
      I
      understand.
      It’s
      not
     
     
      about
      hammocks
      at
      all.
      It’s
      a
      metaphor,
     
     
      see?
      About
      making
      the
      best
      of
      situations,
     
     
      and
      not
      giving
      up,
      and
      all
      those
      good
     
     
      hallmark
      sentiments
      and
      reassurances.
     
     
      So,
      yeah,
      what
      I
      said
      before:
      Fuck
      all
     
     
      that,
      it
      is
      more
      good
      than
      bad.
     
    

    
     
      You
      can’t
      get
      Propeller
      Bitter
      in
     
     
      New
      Zealand
      after
      all,
      and
      Eyes
      for
     
     
      Telescopes
      don’t
      play
      over
      there
      much.
     
     
      Come
      to
      think
      of
      it,
      I’m
      not
      a
      big
      fan
      of
     
     
      cabins
      or
      sheep.
      And,
      for
      better
      or
     
     
      worse,
      you
      won’t
      see
      Stephan
      spreading
     
     
      nacho
      toppings
      over
      an
      area
      slightly
     
     
      smaller
      than
      Montague.
     
    

    
     
      As
      I’m
      explaining
      this
      to
      the
     
     
      girl
      (sorry,
      woman)
      who’s
      selling
      me
     
     
      coffee
      (because
      she’s
      a
      captive
      audi-
     
     
      ence)
      I’m
      waving
      my
      hands
      around
     
     
      excitedly
      and
      spilling
      coffee
      on
      my
      jack-
     
     
      et
      (which
      is
      already
      coffee
      coloured
     
     
      because
      I
      have
      such
      foresight).
      Whether
     
     
      she
      gets
      it
      or
      not,
      she’s
      still
      laughing.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Matthew
      Dorrell
     
     
      Travel
      Bureau
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      (1)
      Student
      money
      and
      effort
      are
      all
      the
     
     
      more
      valuable
      due
      to
      their
      scarcity.
     
    

    
     
      (2)
      See
      Appendix
      A
      on
      back
      page.
     
    

    
     
      (3)
      As
      The
      Editor
      (4)
      reminded
      us
      last
     
     
      week.
     
    

    
     
      (4)
      See
      Appendix
      B
      on
      back
      page.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      —