\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Lerner [is] among the most promising young poets now writing.\u0026rdquo;\u0026mdash;\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u0026ldquo;Sharp, ambitious, and impressive.\u0026rdquo; \u0026mdash;\u003ci\u003eBoston Review\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNational Book Award finalist Ben Lerner turns to science once again for his guiding metaphor. \u0026ldquo;Mean free path\u0026rdquo; is the average distance a particle travels before colliding with another particle. The poems in Lerner\u0026rsquo;s third collection are full of layered collisions\u0026mdash;repetitions, fragmentations, stutters, re-combinations\u0026mdash;that track how language threatens to break up or change course under the emotional pressures of the utterance. And then there\u0026rsquo;s the larger collision of love, and while Lerner questions whether love poems are even possible, he composes a gorgeous, symphonic, and complicated one.\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eYou startled me. I thought you were sleeping\u003cbr\u003eIn the traditional sense. I like looking\u003cbr\u003eAt anything under glass, especially\u003cbr\u003eGlass. \u003c/i\u003eYou\u003ci\u003e called \u003c/i\u003eme\u003ci\u003e. Like overheard\u003cbr\u003eDreams. I\u0026rsquo;m writing this one as a woman\u003cbr\u003eComfortable with failure. I promise I will never\u003cbr\u003eBut the predicate withered. If you are\u003cbr\u003eUncomfortable seeing this as portraiture\u003cbr\u003eClose your eyes. No, \u003c/i\u003eyou\u003ci\u003e startled\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eBen Lerner\u003c/b\u003e is the author of three books of poetry and was named a finalist for the National Book Award for his second book, \u003ci\u003eAngle of Yaw\u003c/i\u003e. He holds degrees from Brown University, co-founded \u003ci\u003eNo: a journal of the arts\u003c/i\u003e, and teaches at the University of Pittsburgh.\u003c/p\u003e\u003c/div\u003e
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