Tail Dragger I hate your guts

This is a little poem that has been making the rounds for a few years.  I’m not sure who wrote it but I like it!

Tail Dragger 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 controls in my clutch
It takes a little rudder — easy, that’s too much!

You see, I learned to fly in a tricycle gear
With one up front and two in the rear.
She was sleek and clean and easy to steer
But this miserable thing with tires and struts
Takes a little rudder — easy, that’s too much!

It demands your attention on the takeoff roll,
Or it heads towards the boonies 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 too 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 ground looping wreck, I hate your guts
Give a little rudder — Oh no, THAT’S TOO MUCH!