Superman’s journey to the underworld. Edit

[dared]

Thanks for the replies... Was thinking about this poem again tonight, in hindsight I don't think I like it very much. Here's an edit that I probably also wont like much in hindsight! Rhyme schemes always feel forced to me, but this one happened organically enough that I thought maybe I'd keep it. Thanks again.

Hi, first post on this forum and I was happy to find some crazy good poetry in the first pop. I think the originality in some of your imagery is really impressive.
Though having said that, not a big fan on your recent edit, I think your edit 1 version is what you need to go back to and change around, it has so much potential! While your recent edit is good in it's own way, it's just much weaker than edit 1 imagery of the wind blowing back together the person head back together. I found that especially moving. I thought about what I could do to help, I think the biggest problem was structure so I tried to streamline the ideas:

Im superman
on a bike atop the tallest hill in suburbia,
watching the sun crash.
This line has to be first out of all your reiterations, it sets the scene perfectly without giving too much away.

I saw bits of you scattered 
across a field—fragments swaying
with grasses, and spirits, and reeds.
I think this line here hits hardest because you are still trying to figure out what the poem is about and it holds no punches.

I pedal so fast
that I’m faster than a speeding bullet.
I think this part may be too abrupt straight after the heavy scene, but it also shows how the N is in a panicked or manic state going down the hill. Almost like he's racing to save his friend. 

But how could I have stopped
a speeding bullet
I didn’t see? 

Well, probably change the line so you aren't repeating yourself but I think if you can convey what's in the paragraph it'd be good. 

transmission towers press cold

metal stalks against the earth’s scalp.

Your dreams still dangle on their wires
like clothes on a line. 

I think if you can convey the idea of his dreams hanging on the transmission towers as the N is driving past it'd work really well. 

The breeze blows your head back together,
and your dreams, like confetti,
pours over.

Then let the catharsis take place. 

Let's ride to Tennessee.

This being the dream that poured over you. 

Here's also maybe additional resource, your poem reminded me of this viral ad/poem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2caT4q4Nbs

Hope this helps!