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It took two years for this collection of poems to see the light of day. Two years. Two whole years. But two whole years of thinking, feeling and working through and from one of the strangest and certainly most torturous facts of life on Earth, and one of the least explored themes in the world of the modern woman of Africa, or my world, at least. This is the fact of Death. But not the fact of the death of all. Not the fact of the death of any. It is that of the modern man, the man, of Africa.

Produktbeschreibung
It took two years for this collection of poems to see the light of day. Two years. Two whole years. But two whole years of thinking, feeling and working through and from one of the strangest and certainly most torturous facts of life on Earth, and one of the least explored themes in the world of the modern woman of Africa, or my world, at least. This is the fact of Death. But not the fact of the death of all. Not the fact of the death of any. It is that of the modern man, the man, of Africa.
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Autorenporträt
Moshumee T. Dewoo is a lot of things: a student, an island girl, a political observer, an obsessed eye-baller of the subject of Power, an Indo-Mauritian, and an African (which she finds herself having to prove to or fight about these days), and so on and so forth... She does not quite think of herself as a poet. But she puts words together, often, that rhyme or with some rhythm coupled with obvious emotional and/or psychological baggage that have much to do with those things that she is, which, those closest to her call or assume poetry.