Author
Poet
Screenwriter
Hoodlum
Breeze Vincinz
BREEZE LOVE SOUL
TONY
© Breeze Vincinz
Found solace for a paycheck and a half
Gave up my brother with an uncomfortable laugh
Let go of some tears and some fears in a bath
Wonder what Tony’s doin’ now
Heard you’re on the white man’s powder
Heard you’re fighting the white man’s power
Heard you’re sniffing your seconds into hours
Wonder what Tony’s doin’ now
Used to believe that my face
Was all my infinity
Tony and me used to believe 47th
Was all our infinity
And I wonder what Tony is doin’ now
Gaining weight each sunrise
Working for the lying unwise
Stepping over wasted lives
(Wonder what their death could buy)
And I wonder what Tony is doin’ now
Trying to keep together
A boyfriend, a Governor, the weather
Trying to keep together
A boyfriend, a Governor, the weather
And we speak
And we think
Of the things that are supposed to be
But they’re not
And we say
And we pray
Of the things outside our hearts
That’s our lot
We pretend our faces are our infinity
When two buildings fell in New York City
Childhood friends dead or 51/50
When will we get some maturity?
Smoke a cigarette in my solace for a paycheck and a half
Talk of my brother with an uncomfortable laugh
An orgasm, gentrification and Mary Mag
When they don’t add up I know it’s not the math
Spread along time, space and childhood vows
Experiences of love and nature and political bows
Trying to keep together, trying to keep above ground
And I wonder what Tony and that face are doin’ now
So I actually did have a best friend since kindergarten named Tony, who this poem was originally about. But over the years, it became more of an amalgam of all the people my brother and I grew up with, along with some people I had just lost. For people who knew the real Tony, he was never on cocaine, and he was never an antiestablishment anarchist (as far as I know); it just sounded lyrically cool, and some of the other “Tonys” did fall in that archetype. Unfortunately, the real Tony passed away a couple of years ago, but I still wonder what he’s doing up there and wonder what the other “Tonys” are doing down here... if they’re still here.
Writer's Notes
Writer's Notes
So I actually did have a best friend since kindergarten named Tony, who this poem was originally about. But over the years, it became more of an amalgam of all the people my brother and I grew up with, along with some people I had just lost. For people who knew the real Tony, he was never on cocaine, and he was never an antiestablishment anarchist (as far as I know); it just sounded lyrically cool, and some of the other “Tonys” did fall in that archetype. Unfortunately, the real Tony passed away a couple of years ago, but I still wonder what he’s doing up there and wonder what the other “Tonys” are doing down here... if they’re still here.
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