A Trip To Rotgut Poem by Harold R Hunt Sr

A trip to rotgut
I rode my horse in to a town called Rotgut
As I rode up the main street I looked at the old saloon.
The doors was closed to traffic for some odd reason it wasn't noon.
I notice at the front of the sheriff's office a hang mans plank.
For today, they were hanging billy boy Taylor.
Rotgut was a mean town hanging was a weekly thing. But today there would be no.
For my guns would blaze to save a man in rotgut