Popsicles.

I type with numb fingers. 
My nose is cold and my feet have not seen the light out of their slippers for days.  
I take a shower with my 5 minutes of hot water as a self indulgence several times a day.  
I over-welcome my stay at coffee shops where the smell of brewed coffee warms me.
My oven door is open wide at 500F begging me to bake a new life once again somewhere else.
I remind myself that for once this situation is not my fault.
I pay adequate rent.  I am a good tenant.  
I am patient, but patience grows thin.


This ongoing nonsense doesn't seem to stop,
If I don't move I can open an ice cream shop.