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 ass
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