silent, often-repeated one. The narrator, whose own company has gone bust, begins by remembering how he drove away from the closed down plant in pouring rain. The large stanza is utilised not only for a discursive narrative but for impassioned complaint. This is an angry poem, quietly but pointedly bitter about managerial greed and exploitation, and it remains a stringent comment on the grubby and grabby little year of 2009.from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: Books blog: Poem of the week: The Autumn Outings by Maurice Rutherford
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