An Ode from the Provocateur of Bitcoin

Out of the ashes emerged a snarling rodent dubbed Max Punk.

Open conflict, Whales besting Bored-Apes, the social layer manifest.

Bitcoin leaders sent to prison, then freed by massive strike waves.

HODL'ers fighting in the streets, power cuts, three-day work weeks, Maxi's battling for Hashrates, governments brought down, Central Banks crying.

The Banksters powerless.

The Orange-Pilled class – loud, stacked and toxic.

The Provocateur don't stand downwind from sh%#tcoins.

Max Punk smells of victory not of FOMO.

An Orange sky at night traverses’ seas of fiat to El Salvador dreams, not NFT nightmares.

A very explosive Bukele friend.

Promoting Bitcoin thru absurdist and provocative actions,

a means of enacting monetary change.

Proof of work[ers]never strike.

God won't save the dollar, the regime.

Fiat makes you a moron, a potential ELON-bomb.

The Provocateur don't stand downwind from sh%#tcoins.

Max Punk smells of victory not of FOMO.

An Orange sky at night traverses’ seas of fiat to El Salvador dreams, not NFT nightmares.

A very explosive Bukele friend.

Orange shoes and garb only taunts the volcanos.

Consuming sats, not the FUD.

And there ain't no future 'cept with Bitcoin.

...In your dreaming Laser eyes!

This is a guest post by Enza Coin. Opinions expressed are entirely their own and do not necessarily reflect those of BTC Inc or Bitcoin Magazine.