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Showing posts from October, 2016

Edgar Allan

The Trap

(For My New York City A Train Rush Hour Ridin' Ass People)
Blank stares on the A train I recognize this too completely Express stops to nowhere  Where expressions can live freely  And the train is packed  so there's no room for healing  what we're dealing with here.  It's called new Yorker syndrome.  Out of towners are perplexed by  The emptiness such a lit city can bring home. Their accents, questions and lack  of direction makes our ears ring.  They don't understand us.  They know that we are free While we fear they'll reprimand us  For feeling free enough to agree that  A little while back new York  fucked up the family tree that  brings us all together, and we're  Losing hopes due to the note that  we might have fucked up forever.  We don't mind our own endeavors enough  To hide the disdain because  It costs us to breathe.  We often don't complain because  the garners had it worse and  Their hearts may never be at ease  under a ruler that will never be pleased  (If so are w…

NEW ART ALERT!!!

Here's a little bitta that sauce you'll find on ProjectLoveBot's Etsy page:
These bad boys are available in different size prints starting at $25 a pop!  Grab one today, we have options for ANYONE! Framed gifts, posters for your home, collectors welcome! 


Click to buy "Papi's Tea"

Click to buy "Trinity"
Click to buy "Orange You Glad!?"


Click to buy "Free Spirit"

Click to buy "Psychedelic Pharaoh"
Shop the rest of our growing collection at our 
ONLINE SHOP