Taildragger Poem

Taildragger Taildragger

Taildragger, I hate your guts,

I have the license, ratings and such.

But to make you go straight is driving me nuts.

With hours of teaching and the controls in my clutch.

It takes a little rudder, easy, that's too much.

You see, I learned to fly in a trycycle gear

with one up front and two in the rear.

She was sleek and clean and easy to steer

But this miserasble thing with tires ans struts

Takes a little rudder, easy, that's too much.

It demands your attention on the take-off roll

or it heads towards Jone's as you pour on the coal.

Gotta hang loose, don't over control.

This wicked little plane is just too much.

With a lot of zigzagging and words obscene

I think I've mastered this slippery machine

It's not that bad if you have the touch

Just a little rudder, easy, that's too much.

I relax for a second and from the corner of my eye,

I suddenly realize with a gasp and a cry

That's my own tail that's going by.

You grounding looping wreck; I hate your guts,

Give a little rudder, Great Scott, THAT'S TOO MUCH.

Author Unknown