me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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Frankenstorm Blues

No power, but at a friend's place across the power divide (25th St.) Here briefly, just long enough to give you this, written last night. Sung to the tune of every blues song you ever heard.

Frankenstorm Blues

River's rising, rain is soaking my blue jeans.
River keeps rising, cold rain soaking my blue jeans.
Watch that water come up the block, feel like I'm in New Orleans.

Wind is howling, crane is swinging all around.
Howling wind, and a crane swinging all around.
That boom falls, gonna slice headfirst down through the ground.

All you million-dollar condos, with your views right out to sea,
All you million-dollar condos, you can look right out to sea.
All you rich people, you got no power just like me.

Talk to my neighbors, everyone's out on the street.
Talking to my neighbors, hanging out here on the street.
Rain slickers on our backs, big old rainboots on our feet.

Frankenstorm, you made a mess of this whole town,
Yeah, Frankenstorm, you made a big mess of this town.
Why don't you roll on out to sea, don't want you hanging around.

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