There’s snow in Georgia.
They closed my university.
They closed my library.

There’s snow in Georgia,
I’m listening to music,
I’m reading my Bag of Bones,
And I’m watching my lawn reappear.

There’s snow in Georgia,
I’m writing my book,
A few thousand words today,
Fred.

There’s snow in Georgia,
God we’re fucking wimps,
Not even ice this time.

There’s snow in Georgia,
I can’t write poetry,
But we’re still wimps,
And I’m bored.