On the Seedy Side of Town

Udit Bhatia invented cascade poetry in 2007. This relatively new style of poetry got its name because it should flow down the page in a waterfall effect. The poem’s structure is simple and relies on the refrain to create the cascading rhythm. The magic of these poems centers around the refrain. The unmetered poems vary in theme depending on the poet’s desire. The only rule used when writing a cascade is that all the lines in the first paragraph are repeated at the ends of every stanza that follows. I will call this cascade poem On the Seedy Side of Town.

Structure of a cascade poem and On the Seedy Side of Town

The lines are represented as ABC.

1. The first line ends with line A.
2. The second line ends with Line B.
3. The third line ends with line C.

I had written this form of poetry before and had fun with it. I plan to start the month of March using this style. The length of the stanza can vary. There is no rule about sticking to three lines. The thing to remember is that the longer the stanza, the more complicated the poem.

On the Seedy Side of Town

The junk man dumbed another load.
An abandoned building caught fire
Meth heads need another place to hang out.
A gunshot echoes in the middle of the night
Here I am, living in a pink house
On the seedy side of town

His broken-down truck rambles down the road
Piled high with a tattered couch and a white refrigerator
Two toilets and a kitchen sink
A port-a-pot and a blue bicycle
Metal odds and ends he might sell
The junk man dumbed another load.

Sirens scream with lusty desire.
Smoke flows into the dark sky.
The world begins to stink,
From smoke and ash and toxic things
Burning because it is soaked in the accelerator.
An abandoned building caught fire.

Shivering with paranoia and doubt
They sneak around on the sly
With haunted eyes and fragile limbs
Searching in the much and mire
For a place to hide your crime
Meth heads need another place to hang out.

Line blurs between wrong and right
When all you have to waste is time
The neighborhood is always in decline
And poverty is the general rule
And selling dope is a way to rise 
A gunshot echoes in the middle of the night

It doesn’t matter if you’re quiet as a mouse
Trouble can find its way to your front door
Because life tends to be cruel
And doesn’t bother to wear a disguise
It only begs for more and more
Here I am, living in a pink house.

There is no shelter when you are down
You have to play by the rules of the game
It all looks the same to desperate eyes
The odds never stack up the same
They all speak twisted lies
On the seedy side of town

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

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