The Hole-in-the-Wall Café
Neil Harding McAlister
At a big hotel that I know quite well
Is the Hole-in-the-Wall Café.
It’s a fine retreat when you’re feeling beat
At the end of a tiring day.
On the cluttered walls hang prints large and small,
And the skull of a longhorn steer,
While the cowboy hats, guns and lariats
Recall days of yesteryear.
When a hostess fair with impeccable hair
Comes to greet you at the door,
You’ll walk into a room that could use a broom
For the sawdust on the floor.
But this artful mess, groomed to look its best,
Makes you think of a bygone age --
You’re a traveler bold in the days of old
While you wait for the evening stage.
The place comes alive as the guests arrive,
Looking suave in a rustic way.
They like to be seen in designer jeans --
Not the togs of yesterday.
And the steeds they ride with such evident pride
Are neither cheap nor quaint:
Parked out back are the Cadillacs,
Where you’ll never see Old Paint.
In that cowboy club they serve fancy grub
That a wrangler might find strange:
Chuck wagon fare you won’t see there
Cookin’ on their kitchen range.
And the beer that’s sold is always cold!
Just order what you desire
From the deferent host when you drink a toast
By the natural gas campfire.
It won’t give a feel for what was real --
But a legend seldom does.
So raise a glass to a mythic past,
And the West that never was!
Overworked and tired? Come get re-inspired
At the close of a hectic day,
And if you’re free, come along with me
To the Hole-in-the-Wall Café!
© 2003, Neil Harding McAlister
Phoenix, Arizona
Thanks to Bucky and our friends at the Bar-D Ranch for including this poem
among their extensive anthology of classic and contemporary
“cowboy poetry” at www.cowboypoetry.com