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Colin Robinson

Monday, January 15, 2018
Remember my story how five years ago, swaying beneath the stage of his Savannah temple, David Rudder lost my attention, as my pores raised watching this 20-something near me singing each word by heart
Monday, January 8, 2018
I’d met the member just once, at a church panel that had made news, where he’d disagreed with the hosting pastor, insisting he would shame and coerce his child away from homosexuality.
Thursday, February 1, 2018
I’ve been wanting to contemplate our particular Nativity-season art form. Not parang. The Christmas smut.
Monday, December 25, 2017
I believe Santa Claus had stopped coming to my house by the time we moved to Diamond Vale. I turned eight here.
Monday, December 18, 2017
The next-door neighbour strolled towards us, across his front lawn, up to our chain-link fence, holding what everybody once called a HiLo bag, and his shovel.
Monday, December 11, 2017
In a shooting with all the hallmarks of a bias crime, a well-loved trans woman, a performer, an HIV worker, a community advocate, was murdered Tuesday.
Monday, November 27, 2017
The acting CoP strutted and fretted about his stage, full of sound and fury about lawlessness. Nikki Crosby was vomiting, tearful and prayerful.
Monday, November 20, 2017
I hope somebody deals with that,” Angela Davis mused from the stage.
Monday, November 13, 2017
Everyone who is single (other than you and me) is single for a reason. The adventure of dating someone is to eventually discover that reason.
Monday, November 6, 2017
“Why we going there,” Rudder asked 30 years ago. And we really didn’t answer. “St Ann’s!”

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