Why Max, why!!

It was clear to Max that things in the relationship were batting on empty.
Although there was the appearance of physical plenty.
Max was no fool. He had seen life’s adult school.
It was a deep dive nightmare pool where lovers played outside the rules.
All his senses were emoting in a fiery gleam.
This was no dream. There is nothing there they screamed.
Max had for some time been for some time saying this to himself.
Nothing there for him as husband.
Nothing there for him as her man.
Just a run, run, run careening crazy path and rather quick to wrath.
Nothing left. Nothing left.
Hazel’s emotional resources bereft.
She had given all herself to the business corporation.
She had given all herself to siblings looking for a mother.
She had given all herself to others who had lived as they pleased.
Who now in their sunset, faced life’s losing wager against disease bets.
Hazel was now all raw live wire.
Her siblings and friends blinded in their ego mires.
Like a worn and wearing out rental over hire running on balding tires.
From dawn to dusk driving on fumes and near empty husk.
Max was now just tired, all his interests expired.
Emotionally tired, mentally tired and trying, trying, trying tired.
Had they as we and us ceased to aspire and thereby not respire?
Max’s verbalization no longer had any penetration.
Only siblings, friends and work mates filled Hazel’s fenestration.
Hazel’s drive had been dulling down way beyond a headache and forehead frown.
Men on pause not doubt was the reigning cause, dampening the libido sauce.
Max pulled over roadside for a solid breakfast,
the whole day before him, this meal had to last.
What the blast!! Max did not mean to be crass,
but at everything Hazel brayed like an ass.
He came out of it a clawed up, chewed up and spitted out mass.
Nothing on Max moved anymore when he saw Hazel naked,
although marriage related, their chemistry abated not to mention belated.
Max could not find it in himself to blame Hazel.
It was that damn men on pause invading weasel.
A simple drive by any petrol station in the nation,
see any sexy woman, and his phoenix began to lift off from self-imposed cremation.
Max saw a neon sign ahead, promising breakfast and a bed.
His appetite calling, Max knew there was no stalling,
he hoped to score among the bedded casts calling.
It had been, he could not even say how long,
since he had hoisted his mast,
and sailed his prow in some deep stormy sea,
splashing the flying white foaming spray fore, aft and lee.
Max was all out of fight. He would just let life be free.

CI-522837117 Knight Truelove Poems
Also see Max and I do not like the one I love