Holy Shit: Klaus Nomi

As time goes by, it seems more difficult to stumble across/hear about someone you've never heard of, but is truly amazing. However, this makes the discovery even more remarkable. I present to you Klaus Nomi.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gma5IUNMTn0&feature=related

It is Again Today

The smoke rising off
the tops of buildings;
this air is warmer than
our air and denser.

The cars curl with
the curve in the street
from the outline of the state
on the lake like lights
in mammoth veins.

After (con't)

V.
Then we began crying.
Theses tears, psychic tears,
result synaptic flood,
cannot pinpoint origin,
all encompassing,
possession.

But
the brain counters
through inhibition. The entire body
crying entity then desensitized receptor.


In attempt to equalize ability to weep is lost.


Afterwards,
the ears search sensitive.
The range of audible sound,
the range of inaudible
sound and all are interruptions.

All senses require a relearning;
A laugh cracks unfocused silence.
a recognition;
Those people are laughing too loud.
and a comprehension;
How are they laughing at all?

VI.
There are three types
of dying breaths; yours
shallow half breath, body
breathing itself when the brain
stops when the heart stops.

Eyes barely open.

It is uneven breathing
uneasy. We are unaccustomed
to such strangeness, a new concentration
on our breath to vicariously
right yours.

Eyes uncloseable.

After (work in progress)

For those who read this, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted. Here is a new addition to my thesis. When it is finished, it will be the longest poem I've ever written.
Thanks for reading.
_________________________________

After

I.
The bed, your eyes almost
wandered, nerve tissue and cells under flesh
decomposed, the fleshy matter terminated
uncontrolled. Festering belly. A wave
of your hand because you could not
speak, whispered raspy, I love yous.

Experts on death suggest the body
attaches to pain.

A grey lightness to things
which are changed;

The sheets covered
like limpid paper, a body lingers
hollowed in bed.

Dad, there was nothing else,
what else was there
to say. We were exhausted.


II.
If we measured in hours,
the hours became capsular cavities,
hollowed by capsular minutes and so on
down to stillness itself, until barely
anything. Division slowed the brain.
I thought,

I am the gridded picture window
outlining the portrait of the front yard.
I am this couch I sit on.

But I am the smallest unit,
hollow atom creating something larger.
Inconstant quantums making empty electrons.
We were barely anything at all.

III.
Your smell was something rotting.
Your room, sterile chemicals from a bottle
from a box.
We were the disgust we were ashamed of.
Your body an alien, belly protruding and painful,
impossible to hold.


IV.
The mind, it thinks nothing.

Vital organ functions taking place
in the nervous system, in the spine;
poorly the stomach acid circling.
The solid stomach no longer finite.
We are no longer eating.

Daily activities assigned to more primitive
parts of the brain; the body walks itself.
The impression of floating.

Even feelings are soma.
Passive branches the brain in waves.
A largeness.

We wonder what it is like
not to feel this, the body growing
another layer, tree-like spiral.
We are covered in loss.