To Fisheyes Who Collected Old Songs by Benjamin Mueller


If you yell air raid

he’ll drop

and give you twenty.


His wires they say are

all fucked up.

His eyes glazed as he reels


his way to the library

most days.

Some say he was in


Vietnam, others say

he hasn’t

come back yet. I always


see him by the records


flipping through, stopping


once every couple albums,

his big yellow

teeth beaming, smiling as if


his feet had never left

the ground.


Benjamin Mueller

Benjamin Mueller’s poems have appeared in 42 Opus, Euphony, Chronogram Magazine, and From the Finger Lakes: A Poetry Anthology. He has work forthcoming in Valparaiso Poetry Review. He lives with his wife and twin toddlers in Ithaca, New York, where he teaches high school English and special education.