Howard Firkin
I’m the bicycle chain that won’t slip off
   I’m the carton of milk that’s still in date
I’m the fully staffed enquiry line
   you’re answered before you wait

I’m the break in the rain as you leave the shops
   I’m the hair dye that looks like the packet
when you’ve found the perfect shoes, skirt, bag
   I’m the perfect jacket

I’m the rubbish bin that empties itself
   the ten dollar note you find on the street
I’m the chewing gum you never stepped on
   I’m the deadshit lover you didn’t meet

I’m the stranger’s smile who thinks you’re cute
   I’m that feeling good with yourself
I’m not just your favourite bottle of wine
   I’m reduced on the specials shelf

I’m the crossword puzzle that solves itself
   I’m the day you call good hair
you can claim that I’m not the love of your life
   but not that I wasn’t there.