experiencing any discomfort

the golden age has passed, leaving the
apple trees spent, and frayed.
where once there was miracle whip on
the kitchen table, there is now only
mottled, and fat-free, mustard.
gelatin burgers top the list of
on-site indulgences.
the drum that was once beaten with such
gusto, is now an end table, with an
old lamp on top, one that flickers.
the magazines on that end table
are barely read anymore. their
covers are ringed with the sweat-marks of
old drinks.
the aroma of freshly clipped toenails
remains a constant to be reckoned with.
and those who are looking for zero are
finding it readily available.
oh, yes, indeedee:
the golden age has passed, leaving the
apple trees spent, and frayed.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011.)