An Hour and Twenty Bucks

In an undated journal entry, Jeanette Hardage shared the experience of visiting a “third hand” bookstore in Dartmouth, UK. It was located in a repurposed old stone church called St. Barnabas and it was characterized by the kind of haphazard organization that often seems to afflict used bookstores. The quirky place clearly captured her imagination as she recorded details about it, including a dusty grand piano, the playing of which supposedly summoned someone to help (it didn’t); an assortment of non-book items apparently for sale, including kitchen gadgets, window frames, a drum set, and a drill press; and the eccentric proprietor.

Perhaps it was this bookstore that inspired the poem below, first published in the Pegasus Review in the 1990s and lightly edited here.

Bookstore

The stop that cost
an hour and twenty bucks

Bought more than words.
Inside myself it reached

my mind, my heart,
and pleasured many days

with light and hope,
a yearning to go far,

an inside job
of joy and sorrow met.

What better way to spend
an hour and twenty bucks?