Doggerel.

Poetry. A story, boiled to its essence, the vapor of feelings, an attempt to write down what a sunbeam casting through dust looks like and then describing your emotions seeing the cat or dog slumbering in the warmth, fuzzy little eyelids closed to the light, time stopping.

Then there’s doggerel. Similar to the nonsense posted above, but written with a cant towards humor or like the verse below, written in all seriousness and becoming doggerel over the passage of time, the firm establishment of Kustom Kulture in the world of automotive enthusiasm proving that Mr. Solum was at best a square.

If you go back to the turgid “Motor Trend, August 1956”, I’d made a mention of the verse, inviting readers to enlarge the page to read the poem. Well, I did just that and yikes. Potato.

For those of us who remember “The Muppet Show”, Sam The American Eagle was the mono- browed arbiter of All Things American, of all that is Good and Wholesome. When I read the poem, I read it in Sam’s voice, harrumphing the entire time.

Kan’t Kountenance Kustomized Kars, by Wallace Solum :

I have viewed with grief and shocked alarm and no doubt so have you, sleek, well-lined autos come to harm by the kustomizing krew.

They cannot abide near perfect proportions, recalling kreations I’ve seen, deliver they must their inverted abortions- achievements truly obscene.

Take a ’49 Ford- most beautifully lined, a popular victim konsidered, take pliers and torch and a fevered mind, and an outlook mostly embittered.

Tear off the bumpers, rear lights and grille, and of course the door handles too, rip off the chrome-with a zest and a will, then prepare for the devil’s brew.

Cut off the roof- so there’s not much left, it must be flat and squat, Make sure the car’s soul is entirely bereft, then continue with minimum thought,

Lower the frame, or body…or both, Road clearance is such a bore, Both rear wheels must then be betrothed to large covers…and seen no more.

Add a Cadillac grille- almost any year, and carefully knock out the bars, jam a ’51 bumper from a Mercury rear, then fill putty into the scars.

The outlook now is horrendously wild, but old features still appear, Memory must needs be completely defiled, they’ll be throttled, never you fear.

But now that the profile resembles a tank’s, and your vision have almost come true, You will soon be ready to join the ranks of the kustomizing krew.