Sunday poem, on shaking Curnow's hand, by Nick Ascroft

Sunday poem, on shaking Curnow's hand, by Nick Ascroft

The time I shook Allen Curnow’s huge paw The title says it all, and says or leastimplies that you, too young, too wispy small,did not detain that literary beastas heedlessly he crossed you in the hall.The book awards it was, and I was allmagnificent in penguin suit with HelenClark behind, Karl Stead beside, who neededwine, and so, the grin across my melonjust too impish, our PM conceded,faux-aghast that I had centipededin to snatch a red from of…