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.