Ca-Tung... Ca-Tung... Poem by Michael Joseph Ferguson

Ca-tung... Ca-tung...

the slip of rain across the bent corrugated metal rooftop of the shed

down across those waters, an infinity of microscopia - a colony of
unseen critters spinning their home into a slowly evaporating universe

ca-tung... ca-tung...

we gather, bright and brave, before this onslaught of time to trade in...
what we've remembered - parsing and twisting ourselves into cyberworlds
that pixelate, melt, and return back into neuron and transistor infused light.

ca-tung... ca-tung...

the world is young again -
earthlight once again greets the eyes of a soul that will have forgotten,
and will have to relearn... language, locomotion, and the subtleties
of bathroom etiquette.

ca-tung... ca-tung...

metal reverberates remembrances, made plural, now tastable, effervescent,
mischievous, and utterly free to slip away again.

ca-tung... ca-tung...