The Mystery Bench

In the city, there are benches

Placed where people might

Relax and take a load off,

Which is everybody’s right.

 

They’re either made of metal

Or old-fashioned painted wood,

Found in parks and promenades or where

They’d do the utmost good.

 

Most bus stops with a shelter

Have a bench for those who wait

And in playgrounds, there are benches

Where the nannies congregate.

 

My apartment building spans a block

On quite an average street,

Without a bus stop or a park;

It’s nice, but not elite.

 

Yet recently, a metal bench,

Three seats’ worth, with a back,

Was placed to give my home address

What other buildings lack –

 

A place to sit, but no one knows

Who ordered such a thing.

It sounds real good, but there are several

Problems it could bring –

 

The detritus of strangers,

Which is quite a common sight

And perhaps some noisy revelers

To party through the night.

 

My street is pretty quiet

And I hope a monkey wrench

Hasn’t landed on it with the

Sudden placement of this bench.