The air-con’s broke again - I miss its hum;
too quiet to be crammed in this lift,
clammy wet with the strangers
I ignore every day. An armpit
squelches too close to my nose:
we try not to notice; someone coughs
and I yearn for the sigh of the doors
releasing me to my floor. Or any other.
Holly Magill, Nutshells and Nuggets, August 2014.