They added forty-two thousand ETH last week,
the way my father adds another dollar
to an envelope he keeps beneath the bleak
fluorescent light of habit, saved for later.
Except his envelope tops out at eight,
maybe nine, before rent eats the rest,
and BitMine's envelope is a small state,
five million seven hundred forty-two, blessed
by a treasury that never checks the price
before it buys, because it has no need
to flinch, to sell, to pay the borrower's twice-
told interest. It just accumulates. I read
the filing twice and thought of Ba, his jar,
his patient math. Same instinct. Different star.