Window Fixers 1965 Poem by Terry Collett

We were window fixers
my father and I
fitted windows
into spaces
in large buildings.

At this time
we fixed windows
into a small prison
for young offenders
outside London.

My father had a plan
where the windows
had to go.

I helped him lift
and get the frames
in place
and I held them
while he drilled holes
and screwed them
in place.

Other workers
were there
labourers
chippies
and sparkies
and radios played
all day long
from some area
or other.

I had heard
Marion sing
with a big band
the night before
a blonde dame
with a voice
like silver.

I sang in my head
the songs she sang.

My father stopped
for a cigarette.

I swept up the dust
from the drilled holes
looking out the bars
at the world beyond.

Some young kids
would be locked up here
some day
not thinking
of who fixed
the windows
shut up tight
and always closed.