Ian Anderson
Clasp
We travellers on the endless wastes
In single orbits gliding
Cold-eyed march towards the dawn
Behind hard-weather hoods a-hiding
Meeting as the tall ships do, passing in the channel
Afraid to chance a gentle touch ---
Afraid to make the clasp

In high-rise city canyons dwells the discontent of ages
On ring roads, nose to bumper crawl
Commuters in their cages. Cryptic signals flash
Across from pilots in the fast lane. Double-locked
And belted in --- too late to make the clasp

Let's break the journey now on some lonely road
Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload
Talk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear
Refill the cup and drink it up. Say goodnight and
Wish good luck

Synthetic chiefs with frozen smiles holding unsteady courses
Grip the reins of history, high on their battle horses
And meeting as good statesmen do before the T.V
Eyes of millions, hand to hand exchange the lie ---
Pretend to make the clasp