This is an impressions album. Or it was. (Youth is so impressionable.)
Ultra blurry, anamorphic, bound movement sung by writing it, but occurs in the latest form of repayment

— you
weigh nothing in and get no credit, no
spectral, tiny swaggering to cash in.

                  There’s a substitution agreement containing someone else
                  and me in force, pulled on from inside.

— oh yeah, pulled awake more, more than once w/ a face of a poet. Or a filled out line. Or lines. Smiling lessons.