Racing TIme Has ForgotA Poem by R. S. MorrisOff to the junkyard we go. The racing season is over. Must build a car for next year. Let's see what sitting over yonder. Like I've woken from a 50 year coma. Nothing here I can recall. None of these cars are useful. None of these suitable at all. The lot is filled with Toyotas. Nissans and Mazdas in every slot. Can't build a dirt car out of these. Where's the good one's time forgot? Where are '55 Chevys? Where are the Fastback Mustangs? Where are the really cool Falcons? Where are mid '60's Fairlanes? A Ford Focus, uh-huh, no way. A Chevy Cavalier, will never work. What's that box over there, a smart car? For the love of god, Captain Kirk. Never ordered from a catalog, or paid a shop to install a part. What's happened to cutting and welding? Building one's car is now a lost art. What happened to 327's? Where did the 351's go? Even a 289 would be cool. A 4 liter Eco-boost, I don't think so. There was a '37 Ford Fastback. Sitting on a Thunderbird frame. Had a 312 cubic inch V8. A quick change upped the game. None of the parts of that car, were meant to be brothers back then. Every piece forced to work together. It not only had to run, it had to win. Where are the top loader 4 -speeds? Where are the super T-10's? That high rev burning clutch smell. A dirt racers cologne, can I get an amen? I'm told it's all over now. No one builds their own car. Kit cars now from pro shops.... GRT, Rocket, today's dirt track stars. The new kids smirk at the old days. They laugh at the '60's dirt cars. Don't understand and never will. Those were the real dirt track stars. R. S. Morris © 2019 R. S. Morris |
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Added on February 11, 2019 Last Updated on February 23, 2019 Author
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