Larry Thomas
ANOTHER BLASÉ MONDAY
Well-to-do and retired,
they rise with the sun
to execute their morning ritual
of black coffee.
Each privately wonders
who’ll be the first to die.
Their past infidelities
drop to the shoulders
of their consciousness
like the first discernible flakes
of dandruff. From the sea
which lured them there, they keep
a comfortable distance.
Their investments are secure,
their health quite good for their age.
Three gourmet meals,
a matinee movie, a nap
and perhaps a poem or two by Plath
will see them through the day
to their dusk-bathed balcony,
just beyond whose railing
another blasé Monday
will snuff discreetly out the wingless
little glowworm of its life.
Wild Goose Poetry Review 
Alrlighty then! What I especially love here is the extension of the poem to what feels like its inevitable close–though the power of the language suggests something more as well.