Canon 5D Mark2, 24-105mm 1:4 lens. Photoshop CS5

BLUE STEEL COFFIN a drive-by poem by Flyrod

The highway to hell is retched and crowded
With rotting corpses that beg to be shrouded

While they lust for speed to outrun the masses
Blue Steel dwellers have express lane passes

Most others rest in mahogany and brass
These will not do for the car underclass

For the truly wicked and criminally insane
The Blue Steel Coffin owns the fast lane

The crowd seeks escape and looks for a bypass
While the Blue Steel dwellers just step on the gas

A smoking gun, and a rusted steel Ford
With a bad attitude the old monster roared

Those duel rear tires would take a good bite
The Edlebrook engine would put up a fight

A hundred and fifty would be his top speed
With hell in his headlights that’s all he would need

The tachometer red lined as he crashed the gate
Fire and brimstone will now be his fate

With no cars in heaven he’d rather be in Hell
Were rat rods abound and drivers rebel