oranges will scare some no more,

either from a weird exchange rate
over the synapses
metabolic illumination

either from the devil's pitchfork���� miss
the cleft mind���� still chucking
the words away

either it's not fast and dangerous enough,
languid and penetrating enough
to warrant a reride

either the two lane's too long
���������������� we must shift through time more time

either the fireworks too short
���������������� time-wise even though long on their reach

to our synapses pitched and penetrated
illuminated by our biology
triggers the word mind

who among us cares
without letting themselves
know they care? who can spend time
with me, dime for a dance,
you with tough feet
and short grey skirt
dance with me,
teach me to dance rather,
while you whirl through these words

either all this

or
peeling slow,

learning the deliniating fog
so you can take your eyes off the road
and enjoy the sweet nature
of a complex taste