The aliens land on our roof & ask my mother pleasantly, what time is it?
while their alien eyes beam red light on my sister's long hair
& with their miniature hands they give my mother a gift
          that is shaped like a plastic pantyhose egg,
so my sister invites them to join her in the closet of her orange juice dream world
& with their crazy ink pens they start poking her, and she starts screaming
          & seeing visions from god
(I know you know that aliens
have always been attracted to our women)
while mother dear rocks in her rocking chair chanting poems to herself

& the wind is blowing from the Pacific, bringing flying fish and I am thinking
that the aliens are like those Silkies in Scotland, half-seals, half-men, who creep into beds at night leaving a trail of sea-water & sand
          & later some poor girl is stranded, pregnant with some weird baby

so I guess the poking goes on and on until I bang on the closet door
& yell, I'm calling the police! & the door sticks
          & why won't that girl ever listen to me?
& I'm thinking that soon she'll be wearing an apron
& ten hungry kids with alien eyes will be attached to her legs
but the aliens leave quietly, giving me pamphlet with a picture on the cover
               of a mermaid with long hair and miniature hands,
                                   throwing kisses.