905-528-4200.

i will wait here until i die, frozen to the sidewalk. tomorrow morning the world will wake, and people will get into their cars and drive to work and only then will they find me, icy and still, adhered to the cement where i've spent so many days waiting. i have been here twenty two minutes, in freezing rain, in the dark. i have been here seventeen minutes, watching my breath make forms in the air. i have stood here waiting for a bus that never comes countless days.





but now it is winter. now it is shattering weather that sinks in through my enormous puffy coat, inbetween between the down feathers, seeping through my sweater and tee-shirt and jeans and long-johns, splaying its icy hands on my skin, only trying to get to through my bones. it is winter and it gets dark early, and here while i stand, waiting for a bus that left early, for the next bus which is late, my feet have become hard lumps in my boots, which have fused to the ice-covered sidewalk. i cannot move for my legs are stiff with cold, no longer shaking but static and stuck together. my arms have been permanently bent in odd shapes, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in my pockets, the only parts of me that can move - my lukewarm hands. my neck, oh what was once my neck, is now but a white piece of flesh between my head and chest, for my shoulders have absorbed any neck that i once had, windbitten and raw. my ears have all but fallen off of my body, in fact i think one has fallen off. it is lying beside me, like a piece of frozen food from my freezer at home. my hair has frozen into hard long pieces, some of which have snapped off from the ferocious wind. my nose is nothing but a beacon of cold, spreading further across my face, growing colder and colder by the minute.
it is winter, a time of dread for bus-commuters everywhere. we stand all over the ciy, alone and cold, angry and aggravated,
because it's fucking cold outside and no one will come and pick us up.