POLYURETHANE

Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner. —Lao Tzu

The facade is real.
The amount of work they put in to deceive you should make you nervous.
Paved over streets hide yesterday’s mistakes.
The problem isn’t fixed, just deferred
Delayed. It’ll come back like Hailey’s.
Or herpes. Or an underdog team in the final play of the game.
No one is listening to you.
No one gives a rodent’s posterior about the inferior or superior. They pretend they care.
Fake is the game of the named, or the name of the gamed.
They smile in your face, all the time they want to take your place. Ask the O’Jays. Not OJ. Although he knows about back-stabbers.
Excessively impassive.
Aggressively passive.
It’s how they operate. It’s how their world turns. Burn it down. Fahrenheit.
They avoid eye contact with the soulful, but give eye contact to their own.
Truth sayers and soothsayers aren’t woven into the fabric, they’re detachable. How convenient to them.
It saves them time from dealing with eternity. And now.

Incomplete.
Vapid conversation.
Choosing to focus on the meaningless.
Putting all their time and attention into the frivolous and immaterial, or worse, themselves.
Blank stares reaching out for any variety of notoriety.
Completely plastic in the flesh.
The only other thing that’s somewhat real is the polyurethane coating that’s worn like armor, to shield out anything true or of substance.
Because they can’t be bothered.
Makes me wanna holler.

While they’re talking about you behind your back, they should kneel down and kiss your ass.  A caged mind leads the body to uselessness.
The Polyurethane people are all over.
Everywhere. Beware.
They stop and stare.
Look out for the glare.
Protect yourself at all times.
Someone has to care.