Thingy the Alien.

He, if it was a he, was like,
A sort of electronic vegetable thingy,
With a back-pac of wires,
And a power pad thing that was springy
He had a portable portal
with a dull mirror finish
He ordered some drink like fluid,
And a bowl full of spinach.
I felt that I knew him,
From the vegetable plot,
But when I confronted him,
He said he was not.
Your head I said, looks like a ginger plant flower
The glare he gave me would make anyone cower.
I cowered from his power,
So much so, I fell out of bed,
And now sport an alien lump,
Going green, on the top of my head.