Taildragger, I hate your guts!

Mar 2014 Taildragger, I hate your guts!

Taildragger, I hate your guts,

I have 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 – no less,

A little too much.

You see, I learned to fly in a tricycle gear,

With one up front and two back here.

She was sleek and clean and easy to steer;

But this miserable thing with wires and struts,

Takes a little bit of rudder, easy,

That’s too much.

It demands your attention on take-off roll,

Or it’ll head toward the boonies as you pour on the coal.

Gotta hang loose, don’t over-control,

This wicked little plane is just too much,

Give her more rudder, oops,

That’s too much.

With a lot of zigzagging and words obscene,

I think I’ve mastered this slippery machine.

In fact, I think I like this thing,

It’s not so bad if you have the touch,

Just a little bit of rudder, easy,

Not too much.

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

I suddenly see, with a gasp and a cry,

That’s my own tail that’s swinging by!

You ground-looping wreck. I hate your guts.

Give her the rudder, Great Scott!

That’s WAY too much.

Thanks to Susan Dusenbury for providing this awesome poem by unknown poet.