when my skin turns into glue

at the risk of sounding schizophrenic i'll tell you about a new friend that started to form in my mind today. he's a donkey from bulgaria whose greatest desire in life is to become a celebrated poet. he sits in cafes with his notebook and orders cup after cup of tea while waiting for inspiration to come. he researches daily and reads books of poetry. so far his favorites are Ovid, Emily Dickinson, and Jay-Z. he love haikus and epic poems, limericks and iambic pentameter. but he has yet to write a single poem. for some reason his notebook contains only tea stains and a doodle of the solar system which still includes Pluto because he doesn't believe in science. he believes in love and beauty and truth and the tooth fairy (seriously, she gave him 3 quarters and a dime for his last tooth). for now we must wait for the prose which fills his sensitive donkey heart to spill onto the page and into the annuls of history.