Ode to Fungible Money
Bitcoin stands naked, the chain sees it all.
Your coffee, your rent, every call.
Two-meg blocks after ten years of fights,
Ordinals JPEGs clogging the nights.
Chainalysis snitches, Coinbase tags your stack:
“Digital Gold” with the feds on your back.
And Zcash? Lol, Ztrash, the privacy LARP.
Opt-in to hiding, most users don't bark.
Trusted Setup ritual, “toxic waste burned”
Trust us, bro, no lessons learned.
Premine for breakfast, dev-tax for lunch,
a CEO, a foundation, a Wall Street brunch.
But Monero, my Monero, you flow like the tide,
Every coin is every coin, none classified.
Stealth keys cloaking, every sender a ghost,
And FCMP++ is about to roast the most.
The whole chain is your anonymity set,
Good luck, Chainalysis: place your bet.
No premine, no CEO, no dev-tax, no shill,
No BlackRock ETF, no boomer to chill.
Just code, just cypher, just cash, just clean,
One XMR. One XMR. Fungible. Unseen.
Delisted, deplatformed, dismissed as a meme.
That's how you know you're the cypherpunk dream.
What the state fears most ain't ETFs, ain't gold,
It's money it can't see. And that's what you hold.