Enough is...enough.

Like me, the poet
and librarian Philip Larkin
thought that solitude
was as natural as nakedness

and as often dressed and covered up
by 'company'.  Unlike me,
he bought into the background roar

that 'our virtues are all social',
and had pugnaciously to lock his door
so he could blossom like a sea-anemone.

(I, on the other hand,
am like a shabby, modest minotaur
with open house,
happy (enough)
that no-one wants to visit me.)