crypto currency

only the one percent will have it— digits on screens, coinless gold, cleaner than blood, colder than God. you kept printing your paper, tossing it like confetti at a funeral, your wages wrapped in lies, your hopes barcoded, your future encrypted. you can't eat a dollar bill and you sure as hell can't chew a blockchain— but they’ll tell you to smile and have more kids for the labor farms. keep breeding, they said, the system needs cogs. you gave them your teeth your time your trembling nights— and when it all crashes, you’ll hold your children like currency and they’ll be worth less than the lint in your pocket when no one’s buying anything but bullets, and the rich are buying planets. how is this in your best interest? you had more than ample warning and still lit the match.