Poem

Rough Stuff

One man sat glumly chewing an old wad of gum
Then he took it out with a thick sausage thumb
He pressed his gum into the bottom of the bench
And that is when he noticed a bloody monkey wrench.

This wrench was lying there innocently enough
But the blood stains spoke of fights and rough stuff
The man bent down to put the wrench in his pocket
And that is when he noticed a gore-covered sprocket.

He thought perhaps the two items were related
But on second thought the wrench looked a bit more dated
For the blood had dried and formed a flaky crust
While the sprocket's blood was fresh, without a flake of dust.

It seemed like the blood had come there recently
And that's when he noticed a man behind a tree
The man moved towards him, brandishing a chisel
On the man's chest was a nametag that said Bill.

It was Bill's job to keep the park benches clean
And he was not at all happy with the current scene
For peeking from under the park bench he could gleen
A different flavor of gum for every possible cuisine.