Picked up a jigsaw,
Factory blemished, I went cheap,
Charged the battery and went to town…
On my leg…
Which should not be a surprise
Given the genetic power tool skill set
Handed down by my grandfather and father.
Rest easy, Mom, this was different.
Instead of sharp toothed blade,
There was a nice soft ball,
No worries, just straight relaxation.
It’s a massage gun, now.
That cheap, factory blemished saw
Cut right through my I-T band,
Outside of my thigh if you were unsure.
I grimaced and smiled all at once.
Calves, quads, arms, and chest,
The pounding was all the same,
Good power tool relief.