Untitled – Cristiano Cardone

April 30, 2026

Yesterday I finally kicked a bum,/
getting back up he said “thank you”/
he thinks it’s my worst insult/
Dressed clean, one notch ahead,/
I’m going to cheat on my wife, Rolex dial/
Married with the intent of losing myself in the tech noise/
Self-hoster of self-loathing./
Ready to disillusion, but who?/

The sense of responsibility is in fragments when you suffer from not wanting to live,/
miniatures of happiness run through me when the caffeinated mind realizes it still has time/
and the yawn of indecision lets wither that will to change it had painted before/
Values like fossils, the future as a certainty, intelligence like a stock/
I’m just an asshole, but am I at least a good product?/

The deal of the century, the meeting that lines my pockets, before the employees’ plates/
never stop paying for what you can’t burn, let this oil make me accelerate and shine/
my value expires after 25 and under six zeros a year, but for now, I still count mucho/
I tick off the checkmarks of social milestones like vitamins in the morning/
removing with every swallow the chance of throwing up/
that anxiety that wants to fight self-destruction/
mami, it’s gotten worse, it always gets worse, what do you think you can do?/

Less than a year, says the cyanide pill in the breast pocket,/
left tidy while I get dressed again,/
I leave an extra bill on her nightstand,/
I wish I could share that plastered smile beyond my infection/
too bad she’ll never feel a thing./
too bad the Babylonian beasts got tired of my head,/
I unleashed them on the bum, hoping my demons would keep him company/
“thank you,” he kept repeating while flipping through my wallet/
I studied how to exploit myself, rituals of emotional scarification/
the cell phone starts vibrating, I hear it loud and clear/
lo siento mami, how can I not answer?/
Call to the top floor, this cloud is offending me/
The sky is not always blue, is it?/
“Now”, says the pocket, time to piss off those lice doing the cleaning/
I’ll be late for the meeting, but my spot is booked and paid for/
you can’t make a mess when you consume.