Best Tailfin Poems
Long, Low and Wide
By Elton Camp
American cars of the fifties were a big hit
Although some in a garage wouldn’t fit
No tailfin could possibly be too high
A wraparound windshield had to spy
Gobs of shiny chrome was the in thing
Like a cheap woman covered in bling
They weaved uncertainly down the way
Safety was not a concern of the day
They would rattle, shimmy and shake
The shoddy construction was a mistake
Ten miles per gallon is all some got
Get 100,000 miles and they were shot
That decade was the beginning of disgust
So that later, foreign cars became a must
Those of us who were young in that time
Considered those cars to be so sublime
If I were a jukebox, long-forgotten,
Languishing amidst some rusting antiques
In a cold, cramped barn mostly filled with junk
I would summon all the strength I could muster,
Light up those bubbly circuits around my face
Throw on a few 45-rpms from the fifties,
And throw one hell-u-va party.
I would shout, “Let’s clear a space in the center
Where we can partner up and dance!”
[Like they did in Toy Story
When no one was the wiser]
I’d extend my slender arm to a grand ol’ Edsel
And shake a tailfin-der or two,
Maybe rock around the clock with the Comets
Until sun-dust starts settling through the slats
Then put back all those refurbished memories
Into a cardboard box full of old postcards
Salt and pepper shakers, pompoms...and stuff,
If I were a jukebox, long-forgotten.
Written January 23, 2021
Tremolo vibrations mark this soar
like weight lines in my invisible cloak
urging more ardor as nerves implore
testimony heralding our sick joke
while packed within schools of baffled flesh,
nose to tailfin in mimicking motion
too fresh to witness the feeding thresh
since Bigger taints the ocean with devotion
with teeth that shred the lagging morsel
still ardent to thrive in bloody terror
as beaky stabs cut each brave dorsal
since error breaks through the standard-bearer
once coddled with such lofty ideals
and chased by relentless conformity,
he feels those arid surface appeals
until riddled by gull deformity.
If I were a jukebox, long-forgotten,
Languishing amidst some rusting antiques
In a cold, cramped barn mostly filled with junk
I would summon all the strength I could muster,
Light up those bubbly circuits around my face
Throw on a few 45-rpms from the fifties,
And throw one hell-u-va party.
I would shout, “Let’s clear a space in the center
Where we can partner up and dance!”
[Like they did in Toy Story
When no one was the wiser]
I’d extend my slender arm to a grand ol’ Edsel
And shake a tailfin-der or two,
Maybe rock around the clock with the Comets
Until sun-dust starts settling through the slats
Then put back all those refurbished memories
Into a cardboard box full of old postcards
Salt and pepper shakers, pompoms...and stuff,
If I were a jukebox, long-forgotten.
Reposted April 8, 2022
[a poem I like very much re-posted from
January, 2021. Hope you enjoy it the
second-time around.]