Bitcoin poem by Jessica Einhorn

A bit of coin becomes a mirror cracked
By love of fame or greed or complex math
It is a puzzle why some care so much
For crypto cash not euro, yen, or pounds
They say that money talks or maybe whispers
I stand outside that chatting class of hipsters

Who knew a piggy bank imprisoned more
Than just my hopes for burgers and some slaw
I learn that it is fiat that I hold
A central bank in charge of all I buy
The legal tender issued by a state
How déclassé and even reprobate

Alternatives appear in digital
A universe of block chains built upon
An algorithm so complex to solve
You need a private key and public too
A miner will create your currency
A wallet now allows a shopping spree

These coins are not so easily exchanged
As carefree shows a different face which scowls
And Mt.Gox loses virtue and reward
Eight hundred thousand coins and more are gone
So bankruptcy without a bank we learn
Brings tears but no insurance in return

Each day the mounting mystery accretes
When Mister Nakamoto wants his lunch
A high-speed chase in movieland L.A.
Brings drama or perhaps its comedy
A pseudonym’s disguise to be resolved
Satoshi’s fate may Dorian absolve

Next reparations are proposed online
Munificence crowd sourced for damage done
Betrayal trounced with generosity
A white flag waves for anonymity
Or is it just publicity for free?
The scent of scam now overpowers me

The mirror‘s crack reflects my countenance
A smile across my face as I discern
Those bits of coins are not the prize at all
The payments system is the lasting gift
Ignored because we need some time to sift
The chaff of coins from platforms that will lift

Who said necessity is mother’s womb
Invention it turns out is born of whim