morning, military

they brandished blades sharp as
daggers in their mouths,
turning tornadoes threatening to trim.

it wore its razor feathers on its Red
Indian head, boasted body of slender
figure, flaunting finesse as it spurns dirt.

spitting cold, crashing
punching palms as i raise it towards my face;
menacing to drown my throat dry of
“germs that cause bad breath”
boasting of its antiseptic.

welcome
to my lavatory war.