My Friend, Wendell Berry
My friend, Wen
dell Berry
bought a pocket watch
like this one:
for 25¢
off the back of a truck in San Francisco
He was real excited and happy
about his shrewd deal.
I, a sophisticated midwesterner,
with an $80
watch
like this one:
given to me by my mother
was simply unimpressed
and a little amused.
You see, Wendell is from
a couple of miles
below the Ohio River
and I’m from several
miles above the Ohio River
in the lap of culture.
Well, yesterday, my $80 watch
broke
and Wendell offered
to sell me his watch for 50¢
—that would be a 100% profit!
So I went to
this discount place, Baz’r,
and bought a watch
like this one:
for $3.66. Obviously a better watch
than Wendell’s.
But I ain’t never
talking to Mr. Wendell Berry again.
Notes:
This poem was previously published in Hey Fella Would You Mind Holding This Piano a Moment (Ithaca House, 1974) and is reprinted here by permission of William J. Harris. It is part of the portfolio “I Hope You Like Being Here with Me: The Work of William J. Harris,” curated by Howard Rambsy II.
Source:
Poetry
(February 2023)
