- published: 12 Jun 2016
- views: 2363636
A match is a tool for starting a fire under controlled conditions. A typical modern match is made of a small wooden stick or stiff paper. One end is coated with a material that can be ignited by frictional heat generated by striking the match against a suitable surface. Matches are usually sold in quantity; wooden ones are packaged in boxes, and paper matches are clustered in rows stapled into matchbooks. They are commonly sold by tobacconists and many other kinds of shops. The coated end of a match, known as the match "head," contains either phosphorus or phosphorus sesquisulfide as the active ingredient and gelatin as a binder. There are two main types of matches: safety matches, which can be struck only against a specially prepared surface, and strike-anywhere matches, for which any suitably frictional surface can be used. Some match-like compositions, known as electric matches, are ignited electrically and do not make use of heat from friction.
Historically, the term match referred to lengths of cord (later, cambric) impregnated with chemicals, and allowed to burn continuously. These were used to light fires and fire guns (see matchlock) and cannons (see linstock). Such matches were characterised by their burning speed i.e. quick match and slow match. Depending on its formulation, a slow match burns at a rate of around 30 cm (1 ft) per hour and a quick match at 4 to 60 centimetres (1.6 to 24 in) per minute. The modern equivalent of this sort of match is the simple fuse, still used in pyrotechnics to obtain a controlled time delay before ignition. The original meaning of the word still persists in some pyrotechnics terms, such as black match (a black powder-impregnated fuse) and Bengal match (a firework akin to sparklers producing a relatively long-burning, coloured flame). But, when friction matches became commonplace, they became the main object meant by the term.
Do you belong to a song?
Does it drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs?
Are you drunk?
Have you been drinking?
Do you below the overpass go with a fifth in your fist
reminiscing the kiss of a love that just didn't love as much as you did?
Please don't give up, dear walls
don't let the ceiling fall
when you belong to a song, salty eyes,
You belong.
Shrill notes begin, the grim violin
then from the silence a violence of sirens orchestrate the score
to which one more corpse is left quiet
How we become the hollows of drums
the rests between notes, the hollers that never reach throats
"friends" in quotes, they're not calling
Please don't give up, dear you
I'm but the sliver moon sliding through
when you belong to a song, salty eyes,
You belong.
Do please believe, however naive
let it drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs
and belong, salty eyes
When you belong to a song, salty eyes,