Ben Lerner

Mean Free Path


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      Thank you. We hope you enjoy these poems.

      This e-book edition was created through a special grant provided by the Paul G. Allen Family Foundation. Copper Canyon Press would like to thank Constellation Digital Services for their partnership in making this e-book possible.

      Contents

        Title Page

        Note to Reader

      1  Dedication

      2  Mean Free Path

      3  Doppler Elegies

      4  Mean Free Path

      5  Doppler Elegies

        About the Author

        Books by Ben Lerner

        Acknowledgments

        Copyright

        Special Thanks

      For the distances collapsed.

      For the figure

      failed to humanize

      the scale. For the work,

      the work did nothing but invite us

      to relate it to

      the wall.

      For I was a shopper in a dark

      aisle.

      For the mode of address

      equal to the war

      was silence, but we went on

      celebrating doubleness.

      For the city was polluted

      with light, and the world,

      warming.

      For I was a fraud

      in a field of poppies.

      For the rain made little

      affective adjustments

      to the architecture.

      For the architecture was a long

      lecture lost on me, negative

      mnemonics reflecting

      weather

      and reflecting

      reflecting.

      For I felt nothing,

      which was cool,

      totally cool with me.

      For my blood was cola.

      For my authority was small

      involuntary muscles

      in my face.

      For I had had some work done

      on my face.

      For I was afraid

      to turn

      left at intersections.

      For I was in a turning lane.

      For I was signaling,

      despite myself,

      the will to change.

      For I could not throw my voice

      away.

      For I had overslept,

      for I had dressed

      in layers for the long

      dream ahead, the recurring

      dream of waking with

      alternate endings

      she’d walk me through.

      For Ariana.

      For Ari.

      I finished the reading and looked up

      Changed in the familiar ways. Now for a quiet place

      To begin the forgetting. The little delays

      Between sensations, the audible absence of rain

      Take the place of objects. I have some questions

      But they can wait. Waiting is the answer

      I was looking for. Any subject will do

      So long as it recedes. Hearing the echo

      Of your own blood in the shell but picturing

      The ocean is what I meant by

      You startled me. I thought you were sleeping

      In the traditional sense. I like looking

      At anything under glass, especially

      Glass. You called me. Like overheard

      Dreams. I’m writing this one as a woman

      Comfortable with failure. I promise I will never

      But the predicate withered. If you are

      Uncomfortable seeing this as portraiture

      Close your eyes. No, you startled

      Identical cities. How sad. Buy up the run

      The unsigned copies are more valuable

      I have read your essay about the new

      Closure. My favorite parts I cannot follow

      Surface effects. We moved to Canada

      Without our knowledge. If it reciprocates the gaze

      How is it pornography? Definitions crossed

      With stars, the old closure, which reminds me

      Wave to the cameras from the