Allen Curnow, 18 October 2001
At nine fifteen a.m. on the first day of his eighty- first year. Why don’t I
first-person myself? I was hoping nobody would ask me that question
yet. The strong smell of chlorine for one thing, one thing at a time, please.
For instance, there’s always this file of exercyclists riding the gallery
over the pool. Bums on saddles, pommelled crotches. The feet rotate, the