A poem by Thomas Thornburg
At the Goins Hotel in Gillette, Wyoming,
there is a sign right inside the door:
NO PETS
NO DOGS
NO GUNS
NO CREDIT &
no spitting on the floor.
Leaving the warbag, just in from the gloaming
We checked in with Dan & ordered a beer &
checked out the stories about yesteryear &
bought all a round & asked Dan that
might we check in Hoppy the t hree-legged cat
who was safe in the warbag with a six-shooter &
a bottle & jerky & a small stash of hooter &
Dan said o.k. & we paid our twelve dollars &
stayed up all night while some woman hollered:
Harold? Harold? Harold? Harold? &
that’s all that happened & I thought what a pity &
we rode into morning from old Razor City.
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