The Arboretum Bench

The Arboretum Bench

 

… the nose picking first graders,
for the primadonnas,
the narcoleptics,
and the Elvis impersonators.

Come, sit on this bench with me and speak up.

This is for the jet-lagged pilots,
those nose-ringed girlfriends,
the perfectionist florists,
the singing choir boys,
the aluminum food truck drivers
     and their daughters,
the bulimic power-lifters,
the scarfed cat ladies,
and the Presidential bodyguards.

Come, sit on this bench with me and speak up.
This bench is saved and I have only the newspaper as my clock.

This is for the Agnostic Republicans,
the illiterate immigrants,
the boot wearing cowboys,
and the 80 year old movie buffs.
For the sweater-wearing boyfriends
     and the younger sisters who steal them,
for the vegan dishwashers, the carnivore park rangers,
and the homophobic parking meters.

Come, sit on this bench with me and tell me your stories.

This is for the effervescent pet-lovers,
those majoring in Physics,
     Aviation and Bubble-blowing.
For the Somalian Pirates,
the Chinese vendors,
the Brazilian leather-workers,
and the Alaskan lovers.

Come, sit on this bench with me and although I ask for a Polaroid,
the rest is yours to share.

“The Bench” by Eliza Howden