A Cambridge Lamentation

This place is always a little lonely At the weekends...no noise and life, I like solitude, But not in places Where's there's recently been A lot of people. Reclusiveness protects you From nostalgia, And you can be as nostalgic In relation to what happened Half an hour ago As half a century ago, in fact more so.   I went to the Xmas party. I danced, And generally lived it up. I went to bed sad though. Discos exacerbate My sense of solitude. My capacity for social warmth, Excessive social dependence And romantic zeal Can be practically deranging; It's no wonder I feel the need To escape...   Escape from my own Drastic social emotivity And devastating capacity For loneliness. I feel trapped here, There's no Outlet for my talents.   In such a state as this I could fall in love with anyone. The night before last I went to the ball, Couples filing out, I wanted to be half of every one, But I didn't want to lose ***. I'll get over how I feel now, And very soon. Gradually I'll freeze again, Even assuming an extra layer of snow. I have to get out of here. (Adapted from an unfinished and unsent letter penned just before Christmas 1986.)