A Place for the Tired

During my walk along Massachusetts Avenue, I passed a nice park bench 

outside a neighborhood pub. Painted glossy black, it had the 

distinction of being "upholstered," with arms and backrest,

made from sections of tires. At first, I thought the tires were from old

automobiles, turned inside out. That is, I did until I realized I could read the

manufacturers' names along the rims. This being Indy, 

maybe they're used racing tires: Decorated with streaks

of white paint and glamed up with some large rhinestones,
 they have no tread, making them useless for anything
more stressful than decorative cushions.