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	<title>Groundwork</title>
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	<description>:Reading and writing</description>
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		<title>Groundwork</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com</link>
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	<item>
		<title>Miscast</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2021/11/20/miscast/</link>
					<comments>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2021/11/20/miscast/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Nov 2021 08:40:23 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archive]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Politics and Culture]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[apartheid]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[first nations]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Khoikhoi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Miscast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[politics]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[San]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[South Africa]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1330</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[(Review of the Miscast exhibition/installation by Pippa Skotnes; originally published in Southern African Review of Books, Issue 44, July/August 1996, alongside reviews of same by Carmel Schrire and Yvette Abrahams. Reproduced here unedited.) I catch a train into Cape Town and walk to the South African National Gallery to view the Miscast exhibition. Ungraced by [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1330</post-id>
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		<title>Port Nolloth, 00:01</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2017/03/31/port-nolloth-0001/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 Mar 2017 07:06:35 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Archive]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Miscellaneous]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Prose]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2030]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[South Africa]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1309</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[From the archive, a short piece of fiction written for a Sunday Times special, set in South Africa, 2030. “Fifty dollar!” the tuk-tuk driver yelled over the noise of helicopters chopping air over heavy loads at the docks nearby and revellers in the streets banging drums and setting off fireworks. The Atlantic was black as [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1309</post-id>
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		<title>Dear comrades, II</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2016/02/26/dear-comrades-ii/</link>
					<comments>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2016/02/26/dear-comrades-ii/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 26 Feb 2016 05:52:54 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Journal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1304</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Dear comrades, we see you now everywhere on Facebook we see you clown and sermonise in tweets of desperate guise while fattening off our purse rolling around on fairways and on greens posing next to your fancy cars or some American superstar patting each other on the back lips and cheeks glistening at tables of [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1304</post-id>
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		<title>The wind in the morning</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2015/11/14/the-wind-in-the-morning/</link>
					<comments>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2015/11/14/the-wind-in-the-morning/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 14 Nov 2015 14:11:18 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Politics and Culture]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1251</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[The wind in the morning The man wakes from dream to nightmare, his night-aged knees buckling over rubble outside when he emerges from the black mouth of his house its burnt shell a meagre shelter from the wind now tugging at a loose something and the blight it brings like a scythe through the valleys. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1251</post-id>
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		<title>For W.</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/12/30/for-w/</link>
					<comments>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/12/30/for-w/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 30 Dec 2014 06:22:45 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Politics and Culture]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[colonialism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[first nations]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[first peoples]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[genocide]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[native americans]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[South Africa]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[united states of america]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1287</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[For W. 1. Ohio, 1994 When the shutter clicked, you jumped back and hated me for that one moment you had glanced into my camera, as if my shutter had fallen like a guillotine through parts of you. I should have known. Weeks before, smoking outside after class, we both mauled Gary Snyder for playing [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1287</post-id>
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		<title>Christmas Eve</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/12/23/christmas-eve/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 23 Dec 2014 06:43:06 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Politics and Culture]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1284</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Christmas Eve Almost all is ruin – the Mozart fugue that fails its promise of deliberate consolation, the unending ticker and swish of a sprinkler outside, and the roads angry with traffic in last-minute errands as the year breaks again, breaks again into its manifold terrors – Christmas Eve and its solitudes for the holy [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1284</post-id>
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		<title>This carting life</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/12/15/this-carting-life/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 15 Dec 2014 15:34:44 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Politics and Culture]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1279</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[This carting life I met History once, but he ain’t recognize me. – Derek Walcott, ‘The Schooner Flight’ On pilgrimage down damp steps, deep inside the British Museum, among boxes stocked roof-high, I rummage. And sniff like a dog and pause, snout snuffling for my nearest quarry, for the tacks to my own, final shit. [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1279</post-id>
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		<title>Untitled</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/11/29/untitled-2/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 29 Nov 2014 09:03:12 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Journal]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1274</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Morning, under its wind-still, sun-gold halo. Occasional only the frisson of a breeze through a palm tree across the road, the green oak, the break of red hibiscus and the slow start of Saturday humming in a car passing leisurely by. Down the road gently rock at their moorings the tugs at harbour. Ships like [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1274</post-id>
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		<title>Leave it to us</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/11/12/leave-it-to-us/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2014 04:50:10 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Journal]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1268</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Leave it to us Do this, not that leave it to us eat this, not that leave it to us drink this, not that leave it to us sit like this, not like that leave it to us talk like this, not like that leave it to us walk like this, not like that leave [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1268</post-id>
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		<title>Genseis</title>
		<link>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/11/10/genseis/</link>
					<comments>https://groundwork.wordpress.com/2014/11/10/genseis/#comments</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[RK]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Nov 2014 06:43:19 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Al Pacino]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Barack Obama]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Charles Bronson]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Clint Eastwood]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dustin Hoffman]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Genesis]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[George W Bush]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hillary Clinton]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hollywood]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[James Bond]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jane Seymour]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jason Bourne]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[MaCaulay Culkin]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Osama bin Laden]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[X-Men]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://groundwork.wordpress.com/?p=1261</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Genseis Colkie McCulklen is dead and the princss see them move on the darkness of the waters and the earth the face of Charles Bronson in other words, and Pacino the mohterfucker, alas, alos dead. Mr Brond and that guy in the red car, and Jason Bored, the X-mint and –womint, theyr ALL DEAD. I [&#8230;]]]></description>
		
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		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">1261</post-id>
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