It was the gnome

While colored lights flash,

  heavy on red and blue,

I sit and wonder,

"How am I going to explain this one?"

"We were wondering the same thing."

Looking up,

 I realize two things.

First,

 my tongue, and brain are not in sync.

 Nothing new,

  and the results can be amusing.

Second,

 I have an audience, and judging from their expressions,

 they are not amused.

Looking back,

 both in contemplation,

  and in consternation,

 I really am unable to blame them.

The clues of my passage,

 clearly evident,

  seem to have no reason,

 and the beginning,

  somewhere back in the flames,

appears to be going up in smoke.

This is going to require all of the experience from my years in customer service.

Pressing a hand to my lacerated forehead,

 touch of blood usually helps in this situation,

   and rolling one eye is a nice touch,

I look into the faces of my waiting jury.

Stagger a bit,

 and take a breath.

"It was the gnome."