The Drinkable Clock

It's a shame
that so much of our lives
is spent waiting.

Waiting for this.
For that.
Hoping that we are around for the next great
something
to happen.

I remember
when
Childhood never ended.
Where summer vacation was eternal.
When we would look at the clock
as something that was
made of plastic
and metal
and gears.

And none of it mattered.

We didn't understand time.
Because we had too much of it.

Now,
I spend days
busy.

But never too busy.

I have to cram it in now.
All of it.

Because
nothing gold can stay.
And nothing lasts forever.

This is the only shot that we have.

We have to take it.

Those who think anything different
are diluting themselves.

You
      want
              every
                      single
                               second.

Go ahead and take it.

Tell them I sent you.

Elisa

I remember you well 

from the Cecil Hotel.

You were acting really strange

to all of us.

Did you know that you looked possessed 

on the security footage?

The last time that we would ever see you 

would be in the elevator. 

But you would leave a lasting impression

on the folks that stayed there

forever. 

Does the water taste funny to you?

Is the water pressure lower than usual?

Why is it black-- 

instead of crystal clear?

How did you get past the locked door 

that led to the roof?

Did the alarm not sound?

In the lift

you pushed all the buttons,

but the door wouldn't shut.

You stepped out.

Looked left.

Looked right.

And began talking out loud

to no one.

The toxicology report came back negative.

You ran your fingers through your hair.

Waved your arms around.

kicked against the apparition.

But to no avail. 

Exit stage left.

Then the door finally closed.

Then reopened on the next floor.

Then closed again. 

Then reopened on the next floor. 

Then closed.

And the footage ended.

Did you know that Richard Ramirez

stayed at the hotel.

Retiring there

after paying 14 dollars

for 14 nights

on the 14th floor 

and killing 14 people?

So did Jack Unterweger,

and the Black Dahlia 

with the Glasgow smile

The other guests...

They tasted you.

Bathed in you.

drank you down

and complained about you

to the management.

Before they knew that it was you--

whose body would be found 

floating in the water tank

on the roof.

Naked.

A mystery to this day.