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Colin Robinson

Monday, February 26, 2018
That’s me trying to be presidential. As is appropriate to today’s solemn occasion.
Monday, February 19, 2018
The young woman, she said, took her entire family in the Jagessars’ 2018 San Fernando Carnival band last Monday. Six of them. Three generations.
Monday, February 12, 2018
By now Voice should be calypso monarch, ushered into last night’s Savannah final by Skinner Park’s wave of voices, despite an audio catastrophe of a Kaiso Fiesta performance, with a punctuated vocal r
Monday, February 5, 2018
My New York readers recall how parts of our stories can vanish. How we need to stubbornly re-tell them. It’s the youthman at the end, who shifts the narrative, who’s disappeared again.
Monday, January 29, 2018
I’ve never written this column in tears before. I know I am crying because David Mitchell has died. Yet I do not fully know why I am crying.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Several pardners of mine had some really memorable things to say this week.
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.