I have a friend
without fingerprints.
She worked in the corner shop
and the fact that her tips
lacked those delicate swirls
only came to light,
when takings didn’t tally
with receipts and the police
arrived to take prints.
Her innocence undisputed
and the culprit shown the door.
We said she was special,
unique, joked she’d make
a superb criminal,
with no evidence on door knobs,
or traces left behind,
tongues firmly in our cheeks
and elevated in an instant
she drifted from us
with our traceable whorls,
just ordinary girls,
nothing special.
Lorraine Carey’s an Irish poet from Co. Donegal. Her work is widely published in Poetry Ireland Review, Abridged, The Rising Phoenix Review, Constellate, Orbis, Prole, Smithereens, Porridge, The High Window, The Honest Ulsterman and Poetry Birmingham among others. She has poems forthcoming in Eunoia Review and One. A Pushcart Prize nominee, she has been placed and shortlisted in several competitions including Trocaire / Poetry Ireland, The Blue Nib Chapbook Competition, Listowel Writers’ Week, The Allingham Prize and was longlisted in The National Poetry Competition 2019. Her poems have been broadcast on local and national radio. Her debut collection is From Doll House Windows (Revival Press).
Foxglove Journal 