She’s reckless. A car crash on interstate 495,
in the middle of the night. A head-on collision
that hurls bodies as missiles, twisting them through
shards out of the windshield, until they look like

tails of a comet. Severed arms and legs that fly.  She’s a
single engine piston that took a nose-dive in the bushes
and burnt its victims alive, while they were still strapped to
their seats, beyond recognition

except for their teeth. She’s noxious gas that pours out
of shower heads, in crowded locked up chambers
choking unsuspecting, innocent people until they gasp
and clutch for their last breath, nameless faces. She’s reckless.