My body is worth nothing now.
My arms are limp, my face is numb, 
my feet don’t feel the ground.

This is where it happens:
in the trenches of my mind,
where my desires and anxieties,
produce the juice for the machine,
that runs in an infinite loop.

If I am what I produce, am I in control?
Or Is my mind becoming the machine?
For it runs, non stop, in an infinite loop.

Bart Kuipers writes short stories, verse, and code in Dutch and English. His fiction has appeared in several Dutch magazines, but this is his first published poem in English. He lives and works in Berlin.

View David Joel Kitcher’s selected works.