The Coding Factory

My body
within
a limited space.

Yet my thoughts
have already wandered
through
the infinite.

I look ahead.

Known.
Unknown.

Statistical numbers
that do not belong
to my list.

Every
unstable variable
has
a legal code.

It exists
to hide
the function.

The way
of recognizing
changes
with every occasion.

So here,
there is also
a rule
of identification.

But these
are only
surface techniques.

The real face
cannot
be identified.

A smile
from the front.

A knife
behind the back.

Counting
every penny.

Giving
everything of oneself.

Worth
nothing.

Laboring
with heart and body.

Dying
without
a corpse.

The agreement ends.

No goodbye
is offered.

This is
the rule
of survival.

I walk out
of the
coding factory,

with
the exhaustion
of body,

the catastrophe
of spirit.

I look up.

There is
no god.

Only
transparent glass

reflecting

greed,
evil,
cruelty,
profit,
use.

Deeply,
they bind me.

A number
is generated.

A personality
dies.

A reused
one
is born.

A number
ends.

A new vacancy
is released.

A Roman arena
takes shape.

And yet,

it does not need
to be
in Rome.