Knowing How, Knowing Why

I know which sewers are buried beneath
me and what plants grow around me.
My small town is just houses in the woods,
houses in the fields, but nature continues.

The houses are small, but smart, connected,
some parts alive, growing new bark.
I know the type of clover that grows on my
roof and the pH of the water it filters.

My house is simple and it talks to me.
At night my family sleeps on mats.
Air flows. We often cook our own food.
I cook better than the house does.

I hardly go anywhere real. The world
comes to me, the world upon the world.
The sun shines down. The wind blows.
Food is close by. Fabricators fabricate.