Rag top down
and stowed away
so smooth clean lines
did gently flow
independent all
front disc brakes
speed down to haul
four speed manual
grabbing clutch light
six thousand to shift
screaming bright
A M radio
in dash stuck
a hacked job
but no one cared
chrome gas cap
on the rear deck
rounded corners three
to fill tank small
balanced so right
with skid pad high
screaming through corners
without slowing down
wind did bubble
and tangle flowing hair
sunlight burning down
on golden brown skin
girls did wonder
and parents did fear
of what adventures
the driver did dream
bright days of summer
down roads twisting tight
with screaming engine
shifting quick and tight
highways long did call
to come fly along
seeking after nothing
but another summer day
That
Is a poem to make a Detroiter smile.