Rowdy boys need rowdy toys.
Sometimes a loud boom is the sweetest music.
Sometimes we have to remind ourselves of how we played as boys.
How we made everything our toys, fools for adventure.
Sometimes we need to meet and greet the need for serious tools, wielding our guns like hammers and nails.
We flail against the landscape, our messengers of destruction sailing and wailing against the grain.
And somehow we deem this gain.
We walk away feeling alive again.