Where new writing finds its voice
Poem

Formby

Paul Kavanagh

It was because of him, Formby, that I started to clean windows
It wasn’t fun cleaning windows, the filthy cold water,
The soap smarting your chapped hands, broken fingernails,
The poor pay, the hours, the graft, it wasn’t fun,
Bucked tooth, cheeky grin, quick-fingered jockey he was,
Once met Stalin, gave the old man many a laugh, that’s why
He pinned a medal on to his chest, it was a big shiny medal.
It wasn’t fun cleaning windows, curtains were pulled, nobody
Was home, now and again I caught somebody sleeping, dead
To the world, I caught an old dear putting in her teeth, a dog
Defecating, never did catch those newlyweds copulating
The flapper showing her bush,
Formby fought Lord Haw-Haw, he drove Hitler crazy
With his songs of sex,
I don’t even know if he ever
Cleaned windows.