My Solitary Furnace Experience
To move steadily and continuously in a current or stream. Liquid. Time. Music. Fire. A gutter. Howling words. Everything flows. Saliva. Teat milk. Online data. Birdsong. Pollen maybe. I dunno. What else f-lows? The river I see on the commute naturally flows. And of course around my body the blood flows. And a breeze flows. Public opinion flows. Electricity flows. And if you squeeze a blackhead and it cracks open, the worm of pus oozing out of your skin kinda flows. Also I read that a crowd density of 6 or more people per square metre flows. And growing leaves, shedding leaves, leaking its sap, the axletree flows. Noel Edmonds' career flows. The foam from a rabies mouth flows. And while mortar flows, the concrete used to build my solitary furnace does not flow. But from asshole to noseholes a cabbage fart stinkily flows. A factory with its machines and its robot employees flows. My antibacterial hand gel flows. All types of repetition flows. Richard Nixon dug repetition. And entropy? Thermodynamics? I'm no science person so I dunno. But back to the flows such as gold at 1064 Celsius. Now that flows. And gravy flows. And this afternoon, up and down and up and down, the PEPSI price on a financial chart kinda flows. Sand falling from an hourglass's top bulb to the bottom bulb flows. And mist flows. So fog flows. And beer flows. So whiskey flows. So also laughter flows. And cig smoke flows. Tomato soup flows. The 18 minute song Halleluhwah flows. An exciting football match flows. And sperm flows and petrol flows and hot butter like hot lard flows. And changing shape, a cloud and a desert dune kinda flows. Brandy on a junky's tinfoil flows. Volcanic magma flows. Frog spawn possibly flows. Slush flows. Prose like paint like notes from a saxophone flows. The human voice f-lows.
