iSketch 104 by Jorge Colombo.
The cover of this week's issue of The New Yorker features another iPhone sketch by Jorge. Read all about it.
View all Jorge's 20x200 editions.
Grand Central, Track 23
I forgot to tell you it's almost time to go.
The sun has distilled its particular worn essence
And the glittering trout is flipped on the bow.
A man asks me what time it is. I don't know.
I have emptied my purse and wept in the presence
Of onlookers. I forgot to remember to go
Before eleven, when the steely arrow
Shot swimming to its underneath, tense
As a stream of salmon in reverse below
The laureled, relentless clocks. The sceptered row
Of columns dreams one o'clock, immense,
Inviolate. What time is it? I don't know.
This story concerns the night I tried to go—
Though many times I flopped into the silence
Of orange plastic seating like onto the bow
Of a lonely ship, and felt my breathing slow.
The frail, retreating stand of columns prevents
The clocks from telling me time and time again to go.
At my feet, a glittering trout swims past the bow.
— Elizabeth Skurnick, from Check In
