You may find him here

Or perhaps there

Fading in and out of the line of sight

In his wake always follows dismay

For a born trickster he is known to be

From simple ploys

To full blown schemes

No harm necessarily intended

But amusement for him above all else

A twinkle in the eye as he exits a room

Behind him smoke poors out

Screams in his wake

Mischief is his greatest pleasure

From pulled chairs

To smoke bombs

A dark humor guides his day

Tricks and jokes a plenty

For what else can one expect of Loki