I once knew a man called Tony.

I knew him since when I were boney.

He was there at 11am

When I caused quite a whim

And landed at the Hospital in the morning.


He was always large.

Somehow oddly in charge.


Blonde as bee

Yet as blind as a bat.

He had the thinnest eyelashes.

And always walked like a crab.

You’d know he was coming

By the sound of his shoes

Not a day ever went by

When he did not wear a suit.


I knew him for all of over thirty years.

He laughed, but he knew.

When I told him I was queer.

He was family.

He was like a father.


My world isn’t the same since he departed.

Our world just isn’t the same.

It is still a pain.

A laughless world.

A riddled space.

Tony was kind.

And he always lacked grace.


But he had a gift of gab

And laughs.


Somehow he made everyone one of his pals.

He’d pick up the phone.

Call City Hall or home.

But, what I remember most was one of his last calls.


He’d rung to say, ‘are you okay?’

And, I wish I’d known that were our last day.

Some days it’s still too hard to comprehend.

How I’ll live until the end.

Without his call to say, “okay?”

To laugh for a bit then again go away.

He touched the world.

He warmed my heart.

He was my uncle.

Even when we were apart.


He was born in Italy.

Made New York his home.


The last we spoke was on the phone.