In my opinion Max is up there with the most interesting of the young British poets such as Jack Underwood and Fiona Benson. Their work, for me, answers the question ( if it's not too soon to be asking this ); 'where next?' after Armitage, Farley, Paterson, Robertson, Oswald et al. These younger voices breaking through have a freshness and vitality that speaks for the next wave.
But it's not all about uber now, in this short collection we find three line poems with the perceptive simplicity of Menashe next to longer works that wriggle and tease their way through your mind like Moulson, others offer deceptively simple layers of meaning where you hear echoes of Bishop. There are some distinctly individual touches throughout with some fascinating word choices and meter that set up unexpected counterpoints , "From the blue lines, the scrawled words,/ I can trace your fingernibs / and unpluck your prints." There are also daring allusions, see 'Morning', that reveal an honesty all modern art of substance requires.
I read that Max is working on his first full collection--can't wait.