Wide-space-suburban sublime,
Shopping for something good in a can
The overhead speakers, normally tame,
Play a hard-rock song from a time
I was a younger, wilder man...
Caught-up, brought-back, I push the cart
And my tread has a Keith Moon spring,
As I join in the chorus, past the cereals
Where a woman hears me sing,
She says: "I'm glad it wasn't just me"
So I wink at her and smile
At our shared 1970's thing...
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