My Friend, Wendell Berry

By William J. Harris
My friend, Wen
dell Berry
bought a pocket watch
like this one:
A simple drawing of a watch with one hand pointed at 12 and one at 3






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
A simple drawing of a watch with a band. The hands point at 12 and 6.

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:
A simple drawing of a watch that looks like the first watch







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)