Michael Andrews Arts

See Announcements for details on publication of Archilochus poems in Arion Magazine.

Seven Benches

Seven Benches is a small, handbound artist book by Michael Andrews


Artist Book

Seven Benches totals 24 photographs, plus individual end sheets, an introduction and 7 poems on a 5½ x 8½ inch format.

Seven Benches refers to the seven benches encountered on my morning walk between Pier Avenue and Gould along the Greenbelt in Hermosa Beach which used to be the train tracks. Now it is variously called the bike path, or the jogging path. It is full of joggers, dog walkers, the aged, the desperate and the smell of eucalyptus mulch.

First Printed 2011 Limited to 49 copies plus several artists proofs, 32 5½ x 8½ inch pages. The pages and images are printed on 100% rag, heavy archival paper with no optical brighteners, printed, sewn & handbound by the author. The cover is printed on an archival canvas. The text is composed with Goudy Old Style and Albertus typefaces.




Bench 6

    August 2011

Bench 6 must be the oldest bench of them all.
Flo and I sat in it when seven was occupied
and I just had the relapse,
back throbbing, legs shaking, breath wheezing
and I was just hoping that soon I could push on to Gould.

I used to rest at Gould, stretch and move on
north to Manhattan Beach, passed the fake
concrete, marking stone and the
ever eternal, brand new concrete bench and on
to 1st Street where the traffic turns one way
about 2.4 miles from home and the next stop
is Manhattan Avenue where the stop lights
force us back into civilization
and the lawns are all manicured and mown.

Bench 6 is rickety and old gray wood, setting where the path
divides and the real people take the path behind it
in order to burn those extra calories
but I have no calories to spare other than a fat tummy
and Flo and I take the west path to Bench 6 sitting in the shade
and wobbling on its legs planted only in the
dirt and the best wishes of some private citizen.

We sit on it many times and it always feels like
it wants to dump us forward and out
and the back legs lift off the ground in a merry
sort of way, playing with us geezers,
toying with our shortness of breath.

Flo says it is a friendly bench and I believe it,

sitting in the shade waiting for
passing sphincters
to polish.