Almost defying description, Max's melange of funny Christmas poems ranges widely and at times wildly, but has recurring themes of food, overindulgence, shopping and unbearable relatives. If you think this collection is dark and impenetrable, I hardly dare suggest that you try Max's Christmas nonsense verse.
A poem about rampant consumerism and the premature appearance of Christmas on the High Street, which sets the scene for a series of poems that are occasionally offensive, but never without just cause.
That frantic shopping fest in the last days before Christms is enough to test the best of us.
Is forcing your family to eat more than is good for them is an acceptable price to pay for the familial bonding that occurs at Christmas? Discuss (pr perhaps disgust)
The alcohol-fuelled confessions of a Father Christmas, who is under pressure to do some real work to avoid being labelled a scrounger.
Max at his misanthropic best as he takes a loud counterblast at the aural assault Christmas offers.
Experience the harsh realities of Christmas in a tongue-in-cheek poem about Yuletide overindulgence and excess.
Multi-layered and impenetrable, Phantasmagoria offers a dark and unforgiving view of the festive season. Alternatively, it could be complete nonsense.
It's a brave man who questions the reality if Santa Claus…
A two part poem in which we see a traditional Christmas ritual in turn from the viewpoint of the two participants.
If you endure an annual round of embarrassment as you thank relatives for thankless presents. there's an unexpectedly warm ending to Gift Sets as Aunty Flo comes up trumps.
Ultra-realistic, rather than critical, Max's poem paints a slightly muddy hued picture of the omnipotent one's feeling towards humankind at Christmas.
A literal, rather than the usual metaphorical take on the perennial topic of surviving Christmas.
More food, glorious food in a poem which may leave you salivating or feeling slightly nauseated.
A poem which will strike a chord with anyone who objects to the pervasive, intrusive, aural assault that is muzak.
The opening line 'Once in loyal moron city, stood a lowly shopping mall' indicates that we've revisiting familiar Max territory, shopping and parody.
It could be read as a reasonably serious poem, until you get to the line ‘I wish I had my relatives round me every night' and realise tongue is firmly in cheek.