This is not my Landscape

[heslopian]

This is not my Landscape (Edit 1)

They say, write from only river born truths
drenched in deluge, crest sunk, felted motions. I didn't know what "felted motions" meant at first, but looking back on it after having read the poem, I really like it. It's like that phrase "an iron fist in a velvet glove".
Write in ghost ribboned speak, purple flowered prose, Should be a dash between "ghost" and "ribboned" and "purple" and "flowered", I think.
pink hearts bled red, watered skies and of starry oceans.
This is not my landscape
I am made of lead pipe This is a brilliant refrain, not just in and of itself but because of its positioning after such phrases as "purple-flowered" and "starry oceans".

Caravans of tears emerge in feigned hurt
draped in refuse, scavenged feeling balmed hearts. The second clause of this line feels a bit disjointed, as though it's just random words.
Shall we, weeping gardens, clap with singled arm;
satisfied now, wrapped in gold lilt, paint farts. This is amusing; like "lead pipe", "farts" wonderfully deflates the purple stuff beforehand.
This is not my landscape
I am made of lead pipe

Mack truck poetry, fist fucked love holes, that's mine. Should be a dash between "fist" and "fucked" (I sound like I'm critiquing toilet wall graffiti)
Dressed in refuge: Should this be "refuse"? nuclear me singing
carbon pressed joys, seismic measured hate speech. Excellent. There's an appropriate hardness to the technospeak.
Runaway dandy I, oiled up, clinging. This made me giggle
This is now my landscape
I am made of lead pipe

A really good poem. It's kind of anti-Victorian, reminding me of how lean 20th-century prose, like Hammett and Hemingway, followed long, flowery, dense stuff by writers like James and Eliot. Critique is JMHO. Thank you for the read