two feet below the ground

i think i’ve buried myself
in a heap of red leaves
inside the children’s playground
at a mental hospital.
i can hear white giggles
from a negro boy;
two lesbians tongue kissing
beside a stooped french tree.
senior citizens with a shovel
pile dirt on my heap.
(mostly loam soil,
and pebbles, and shit.)
but amongst all these,
i pretend to sleep.
it’s cool here, underneath.
i can hardly hear my heartbeat
or the shuffle of my nurses feet.
just the children giggling,
the young and reckless kissing,
and the old men and women
piling dirt on me.