If I ever see that little sucker,
I'll fill him full of lead.
He deals me so much misery,
that Gremlin in my shed.
His activity's increasin' now,
but his history goes way back.
He hides and steals and misplaces
my tools and supplies and tack.
And, though I've never seen him,
or met him face to face,
his trademark is movin' my bridle
from its regular hangin' place.
I think it's just a "him,"
though it could be a "his" and "hers,"
but him or her or they or it
just loves to hide my spurs.
In the past couple of years,
he's hid several mohair cinches,
four or five pair of fencin' pliers,
and, at least, two dozen wrenches.
Then, sometimes he'll change his target
and make another pick.
Of late, his favorite plaything
is my fiberglass sortin' stick.
Sometimes, he lets up for a while,
and, then he goes on binges
and hides or steals my needles
and my pistol grip syringes.
I don't know what he eats in there,
'cept, maybe dead horse flies,
but I bet he's got an evil look
and yeller, slanty eyes,
Sometimes, at night, when I go there,
and it's too dark to see,
I know he's hidin' and watchin'
'cause I can feel him lookin' at me.
I even think I've heard him.
Once, I think he coughed,
but I never hear his footsteps
because he walks real soft.
You wouldn't think that character
would be so mean and shifty
as to increase his attacks upon a man
just because he's past age fifty.
But, lately, when I'm workin',
and, if I lay a tool down,
he sneaks right in and hides it
before I can turn around.
And, now, he's not confinin'
his activities to the shed.
He stalks me while I'm workin' cows
and while they're bein' fed.
When I turn off the water and leave,
he sneaks down and turns it on.
Then he turns the corrals into puddles,
after I have gone.
He has another fearsome trick
that I've not yet disclosed.
He delights in openin' gates
that I know damn well I closed.
I don't want to be paranoid,
but the truth is plain to see.
I think I'm getting' more Gremlins,
and they're closin' in on me.
At our house, he's got some kinfolks
of similar genetic stocks.
One of 'em hides my glasses.
Another steals my socks.
Editor's note: Joe Kreger writes from his home in Tonkawa, Oklahoma. His books and CDs are available from the Journal by calling 1-800-954-5263. For personal appearance information, call 1-816-452-3513.
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