SMUDGER JOCK

Though in the print by trade, how the bills got paid,

my Dad for years went window cleaning

Smudger with scrim,  I remember him, 

 Jock kept those windows gleaming

With bucket in hand, throughout the land, my Dad was fit as a fiddle

Up high he would go whilst I’d stay low, not even to the middle

of his high ladder, would go my bladder whilst Dad up 80 foot

Me high up the rung, I’d shit my bum and that’s politely put

I -Vertigo, Dad - Rear Window, my favourite Hitchcock tapes

With scrim and flask, I’d always ask, 'Dad, d’you peer in through the drapes?'