Burnside is keen to pierce through our urge to narrate, and to understand what exists beyond the familiar details of ordinary life. Thus he is interested in the pretext and the subverbal; he is inspired by the always elusive property of otherness, and the desire to exist beyond ingrained notions of property in the sense of ownership.
September 11th inspires a poem about the illusions produced by 'History', while in 'Koi' he seeks the ecological world outside of human understanding. 'To the painter Fabritius' is an ode to the lost works of art, and the inherently fragmentary role of human life in a wider ecology.
Much of this selected works consists of poems from 'The Asylum Dance', where he takes a human habitat ('Ports' 'Settlements' 'Roads' 'Fields') and explores how they shape his perspective and, in broader terms, the illusions of us as human beings. It's an interesting project, though not very consistent. Nonetheless it marks a transition from being a good but piecemeal poet, to one who embraces ambitious subject matter while still focused on the quotidian. From here on, he is at his best.
Burnside's poetry is going strong at the moment. Somehow I imagine (a phrase typical of Burnside's locution) posterity will remember him as a minor poet, if at all. But perhaps that's how he desires to be read.