Self explanatory really, look at the state of what I have produced in the vein of JCC

Nowhere Town

The giro queues

Around the block

Of men in work wear

Still on the clock

Back to the sites

Once they’ve signed-on

The job centre clerk

Is in on the con

The town hall bells

Rattle the ears

The dinner time walk

For a round of beers

The pubs are full 

With the early birds

They’ll be there till last orders

throwing up on the kerb

Psycho Keith

Fumbles in his pockets

Looking for change

From his deceitful profits

He cashed June’s cheque

Down at the pawn shop

His face ready for the pavement

The drunken nob

The ladies on the markets

Wearing fingerless gloves

Shouting prices

For their cream and rubs

‘Come and get your punnets’

‘Fish fish fish fish’

‘Kojak on video’

Knocked off satellite dish

This town’s population

Covered in a film

From the defunct chimneys

Of victorian mills

Its clearly visible

Even if you don’t look

Its not machine washable

Or partial to a scrub

You cannot clean

This permanent tattoo

The people never leave

The nowhere town is a glue