In Krumau's narrow streets and ancient medieval walls, Schiele saw a metaphor for the simultaneous decay and persistence of human existence; he called Krumau "The Dead City."
Korean couples caw-cawing like crows.
Some sobbing kids. A juggler's razzmatazz.
My camera zooms. I struggle to compose
a snapshot of some locals piping jazz,
for all around the throng swells, pulses, throbs,
as if it were one body with one mind
-- to jabber emptily, buy bits and bobs,
and leave McDonalds' papercups behind.
What did Schiele see, when painting Krumau?
A plodding milkmaid? Maybe a petite
young nun in prayer? Two youths leading a sow?
Persistence and decay: An ancient street
with crowds of shuffling tourists, trinket stalls.
I focus, as did Schiele, on the walls.