This town
Inept
haiku
all limitation
and structure
yet no imagination
to birth
beauty
from constraint
These people
they feed
puking little back
These cliques
who-knows-who
rinse-and-repeat
These same faces
same songs
same bands
same venues
Rearranging lineups
A child’s
tiled puzzle
Congratulate each other
“We’re really
quite the scene!”

All the time
missing
the facts
Small pond
little fishes
hostile
to newcomers
to difference
to opportunity
This petri-dish
experiment
Voluntary
social
blindness
These gatekeepers
protecting
intimate circles
Just as cosy
as the worst
crony politicians
Is it any
wonder
this town
feeds on its own
and perpetuates
no hope
save for
the taste of
young blood

[Which town? I suspect its yours, just as much as its mine]