This Goodly Frame

In seeking to find we are not found
As translucent as porcelain,
The earth's goodly frame gone to ground
For we deny the mess we're in.
We have no hallmark any longer
There is no sign of quality,
But what does not kill you makes you stronger,
Alack, alas poor me!

Man assuredly does not me delight
Nor do I delight myself.
As for women, I can only be polite
They are a danger to my health.
So sit at night and scribe will I,
In day light seek inanimate pleasure
With sardonic smile and zeitgeists eye
One can create substantial treasure.

So, to walk this goodly frame alone
For in a blink half my time has spent
Have nowhere that I can call home
For as I came, so shall I went.
To breathe the air and hold it in,
Such small luxury to find,
That my rhymes somehow outlive my skin
As quintessence of my mind.