Reduce your aspirations towards this lofty tower

Jack, Jim, and Jose sell it liquid. Dry, it means to endure the wicked.

I hate this as it gets everywhere in your shoes Though with a towel above this in the sun you can snooze You can use this substance to make glass Just don’t let it get stuck all over your ass

I have a spine, but no bones to bear, Pages I hold, a story to share. With lines to fill, or sketches to make, What am I, for goodness sake?

Holding dessert, directing traffic, or frustrating a recovering dog, What am I?