pyrolysis

 
i would need 20 degrees,
just to get up to no degrees.
that's dumb.
and that's not including the extra chill that brings the answers that're blowin' in bone-biting bursts.
the winds, ya'll.
change, war, the whole shootin' match.
what does a barbarian battle beast do when the temperatures drop off the thermometer?
obviously,
i build a giant manly beacon of brightness.
-it's not easy to spark up a pagoda made out of enkindlable excellence.
so, i cheated a little,
and stashed one of those fire starter sawdust blops deep inside the tower.
c'mon,
the wood was frozen solid, my ninjas,
so just take it easy.
it was so big and hot, once it goin' though, my ninjas,
i had to take off my gloves....
sweaty hands an' that.
now that's what's poppin'....
but honestly,
i think i smoked a carton of pine bark unfiltereds.
hemlocks, at that.
a little extra poison in my smog, thanks so much.
every breath had a half-lungful of hot fire leavin's.
that north windy winterness was gusting at my face,
determined to bite back against the hot hot fire.
or at least to use my own flint and tinder skills against me...

to the left.

& to the right.
there was also some back to front action too,
and much like when it comes to wiping,
back to front was bad news.
i came close to choking into unconciousness,
when a deep inhale vs. hot spark wrestling match
 caught me off guard. 
thankfully,
years of spitting hot fire an' all that helped me achieve victory.
barely.
my molars still taste like charcoal.


glassy eyes.
that's the smoky haze's special present to my face.
well,
that and a bunch of angry singeing embers.
i gotta be honest;
barbarian bonfire time is my favorite part.
watchin' the snowline recede.
matching the sparkle magic floaties swarm around.
bein' warm in the middle of the takin'-it-deep freeze.
it's kinda rad, ya'll.


pyrolysis.
that's what happens to organic matter when it stands next to the hottness for too long.
i can only assume that it's also the cause of all the turmoil, trouble,
and doo-doo buttery hardship that's happening around me and my fellow battle-bards.
but what can we expect, really?
i mean,
it seems only fair to allow for the infinite nature of the hot fire, yeah?
i'm sayin',
fire is a pure example of what is. and just be dopeness. and just doing what you do.
it's not like fire has an agenda beyond burning up the fuel around it.
it's not that it can't be bent toward collateral purposes,
but mostly it just be's on fire.....
and that's word.
but,
continuous exposure,
over time,
breaks down the composure and composition of anyone else,
who isn't heartbeats deep in takin' it to eleven.
i'm sayin',
on a scale of one to ten,
most folks max out at around a six.
that's barely better than half bad,
but it's not louder, and harder,
it's weaker, and lamer.
it's pyrolysis.
it can't be helped.
but still, that doesn't make it less disappointing...
the good news is:
every watered-down doo-doo doused tepid low-watt life liver that burns out?
they just make our sh!t burn brighter in contrast, right?

pyrolysis.
c'mon.
be prepared.
i'm just sayin':
my teeth have asbestos caps,
because i spit hot fire;
never quiet, never soft...