don t pollute

"Heaven would be, for me, a comfortable overstuffed chair in some far corner of a library. The chair would have my name on it, tastefully inscribed on a small bronze plaque. Beside the chair would be a coffee-maker and a couple of vending machines. And because an occasional puff of tobacco clears the head wonderfully when one come in the middle of a paragraph, as Dante puts it, to apos;a dark wood where the straight way was lost,apos; I would require an ashtray. I would have, as well, a sunny window, a gout stool, and a silent assistant who brought, at the snap of a finger, great literary works, who quietly placed them at my elbow, and who silently flitted away. The chair would be mine, all mine, and the resulting wisdom in my head would belong to the ages."
Suzanne Britt
don t pollute, don t pour your love, don t pour your love out.