If I have a judgement,
valuation or prejudice
about you, it’s not the colour
of your skin I regard.
I listen to your
voice, its cadence
and intonation, the way
the v o w e l s form
around your thoughts.
Wherever you come from, eh?
Because that, that, in any language
reveals you, to me. That instrument
tells me where you are from
and I don’t mean geographically.
Those notes made
by your instrument
that has its roots
in the core of your being
tell me of your humanity,
tell me how we’ll get
along.
Peter Handley
Peter Handley was born in a small village next to what was Sherwood Forest in the first decade at the beginning of the end of the age of Aquarius. He has been variously described as an arty farty twat and an Indian Oscar award winning actor and writer. He is published in numerous literary journals, trained, amongst other places, at Bristol Old Vic Theatre School and continues to tell stories and bullshit in all the right hostelries to promote positive growth all around the world and in his back garden. His first solo exhibition of works on paper is due out in a fancy gallery in Vienna late 2014.
