Quote:
Originally Posted by atisketatasket
At least it wasn't Ted Williams's head. That's out there somewhere in AZ.
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Scottsdale 
__________________
'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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