It's a bird... It's a plane... It's ...

I’m a pit that’s not in the ground, on your body, in pairs I’m found. I’m a host for hair and lint, but may raise a stink that makes others squint.

Beef-witted atomy, caged in glass and ink, A singular knot where frantic shadows drink! ’Midst this coil, a motley-mind doth peer, The crown of fools, both distant and most near! What be the answer?

I have legs but never walk, a back but never complain. I host tired humans, lonely pigeons, and forgotten gum. I hear secrets, watch joggers suffer, and get blamed for cold seats. In parks and courts I quietly sit - What am I, besides emotionally supportive furniture?

I am a place, yet I don't take up much space. Down is fun but up is posh. A night on me makes a date super laid back.