Crude and rude

I'm crude and rude

They say I have no refinement

I can be lewd, go nude

I don't like modern confinement

I live in a house hewn by an ax

on my walls there's no paint

On the wooden floors there's no wax

some call it quaint, but a saint I ain't

On my window there's no screen,

in fact it has no glass

Out back there's a latrine,

over which I hang my a*s

No LED's please

I prefer candle light

Lights are too bright, my eyes find ease

where a dimmer glow, preserves my sight

The sound of raindrop streams

on clay tiles revealing,

wooden, thick, rough cut beams,

where there's no ceiling

No styrofoam or plastic

a straw hat for my head

a cord for my shorts not elastic

I go au natural to bed

Through some holes vines grow

Press board, don't you even think

And wallboard no, so the cracks can show

a sunrise my eyes can drink

Some said I'm uncouth when I pulled my own tooth

I cook my food over fire

the last time I saw a doctor was in my youth

I fix everything with wire

Water I bring from the spring,

electricity I made an exception,

so I can refrigerate food that I bring

and post a poem from Wifi reception

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Cool last stanza...
I think it was fun typing poems on my old Underwood.
everything is so covered up these days by technology...
I would rather take off the fig leaf and go naked in the paradise
of natural ...we have been covered up too long.
j.

[Soren]

Actually Jacob this poem is pretty close to true. I spend half the year or more in this type of setting and the other half with humanity. Thanks for the read.