She comes in waves.
In vibration, pulsating;
In a silken grave.
Writhing, in pain and in pleasure;
Gyrations, a grind of leisure.
Bucking in the saddle;
Riding hard, and giving pressure.
On the range, right at home;
One who meets the measure

Trails of light impair sight
Pulsating snake-like kites
Shine stronger collectively
More from than the left or right
I, cannot see properly
What is in front of me
Peak lightning streaks

Been here before
Status is temporary
Symptoms of brain fatigue
Or excessive use of screens
Warning signs align
Step away from this stationary place
Researching this state
No pain or migraine
Time to vacate by taking a break

Attentive eyes
    and nervous jitter,
trembling hearts
await their fate

barbaric practice
of modern acceptation
fear is faced
  in university fashion

Navy blue professor,
    of conductor hands

Watching night step-sitters staring at each passerby
abiding time as if counting sheep stepping with the city's cadence
Hearing sirens alarming in their BEWARE BLARING;
persistent fearfulness for evil and citizens securities
Staring-walking-bodies searching a barren land prostrating
before the great needle
Patched streets and decaying sidewalks by flooding night lights lay surreal

DECAYING fingers of poverty playing its fingers into every crack, crevice; into every pore, into every cell member
into one's whole being
Sounding the hip-hop generation street corners of hustlers
jiving away the night
The hustled and hustlers' overwhelming struggling for power; being surrounded by red brick and stone; being  incased in poverty

Pounding city hysteria;
at times laying silent in sleepless depth
by the waning gradualness;
anytime readying itself to ERUPT