Brewed Fresh Daily

requiem for daniel thompson you, white bearded saint of the sad cleveland streets, with yr twinkling eye & fireworks of the mind, chanting yr heavy words over the beast of the city, o prophet of many hats, the music of yr soul like a fine mercury swirl, awash upon lost neighborhoods, a beacon of hope in a twist of whispers, down where the cuyahoga flows gentle giant of junkyard poems, in a pearl road salvage joint where the word resurrected the rust of axles, silent engines motoring our forgotten names, w/a top hat standing on a flatbed, legendary ghost of the west side market, weaving in and out of vegetable stands, sausages hanging like uncooked poems from the rafters, all yr clean fresh bread of the moment, king of the coventry hours, telling tales at a table at tommy�s, rattling the bones of the ages, the civil rights wars of the 1960s, you the mask of hughes, crane, levy, with yr diamond sharp scythe of images, poems that erase every ancient moment, suspended in time like a golden elixir, dueling with drumplay, how you would laugh at my words, on a sunny cleveland afternoon where the birds speak of spring, the dogs sing symphonies, today is a holy day, a timeless may 6th, (can�t believe yr gone) I offer this requiem for you, daniel thompson - Markk Kuhar of deepcleveland.com