Vienna 2 / Narrative 1 (Jakob's Body)

Stand still, Jakob. Good. Height exactly eight times diameter of head, shoulder axis to hip axis precisely point five meters. So, let the Zeitung scribblers, peering in the smoky mirror of their anti-Semitism, see only a mop of black hair, a jiggling leg, nails bitten to the quick.

My painter’s eye pierces surface and shadow, seizes the consummate design—brunt of bone, web of blood—which is Jakob Davisohn, fair specimen of homo sapiens.