Orangeville Sucks

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The mayor says he can do better
But it stinks in here, really stinks
And the revolver cradled in his arms has fired its last blank
Really fired it
In a shipping container by the highway
I saw this couple
Now they talk incessantly
And wear leather
And I’m bored
And one of the two sold me the sweater I’m wearing now
And she checks her iPhone
And I wonder how the other can be so haughty
I swear, his haughtiness
It’s like a cloud of gnats
Rising out of an iPhone
But I already have an iPhone
I folded it into a blossom
And floated it down the river
To the mayor
The mayor, who shot it with his revolver
Shot it twenty or thirty times
Shot it until he ran out of bullets
Really shot it
Until it sailed out of sight
Winking in the distance like a broken bottle
In the moonlight
Or a silver fork in the desert
A fork or a can of Chef Boyardee

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