The Elevator Syndrome

This morning we were cattle
pushed in and tied behind
Big blue eyes abounding
hipster beards and polish cheekbones
the edges of books becoming blunted daggers
the wafting scent of body odor hanging in the psychic balance
when so close to strangers
there is an intimacy
a shared bond of an independent nature
strange, yet convenient
in pushing past our immediate need
to space out evenly in cramped quarters