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The wave of the future is waveforms. [Rough Draft]That little noise
sounds the payout of glances;
transferable but not refundable.
I can make exchanges:
buy high on brunch near the river,
sell on browsing bookstores.
The floor keeps passing
in increasing fashion.
I can talk to my future,
say whatever I want
and it will answer,
Let me get three looks for a smile;
I haven't noticed one in days.
this capitalism can be.