The Night of the Gremlins

The Night of the Gremlins

I remember the night
the gremlins stole
into my kitchen.

They gnawed at the cheese with their gnawish little teeth
and snatched at the ham with their snatchable little claws.

They left little gremlin
shaped footmarks
in the butter.

They jumped on the floorboards,
they danced in the sink,
they put all the knives in the fork drawer
and the forks in the knife drawer

but ran out of drawers for the spoons.

They howled
and hollered
and rattled
and clanked
and twiddled
and twonked
and pinged
and ponged
and eventually left
with much wailing
and flatulence.

But I just rolled over in my bed
and went back to sleep.

Safe in the knowledge
that they had not
located
the chocolate biscuits.