UFO of You

There’s a martian in the margarine again
                                            green head in my table spread
                                                                  pointy ears above the tub’s edge.

I am a sucker for breakfast time.
He is puckering his lips towards mine–
                                                       the martian in the margarine
                                                                             the foreign in the morning blend

out of line with no mistletoe above us.
          It is not nearly Christmas
                                          when everything in a room smells like pine
                                                                          noses gently pricked by those
needles – – –

         It’s always this fine line down the middle

                    how many light years till we blend the spooky with the season?
till we see
           he’s the one.

Kara Imre recently received her MFA in Writing from Sarah Lawrence College and holds a BA in Writing and Theatre from Emerson College. Her work has appeared in gauge and The Emerson Review and is forthcoming in Word/For Word.

Something spooky? Smucker's Uncrustables. And, in local spookiness: I live near a town with a graveyard that has a notorious tombstone of a witch, Hannah Cranna who supposedly died twice.