I died because I'm poor. I'm floating in the water. My Mom is accross from me. Mosquitos swarm around us. They're our only friends. I'm in the United States. Of, America. Not Vietnam. I'm not on T.V. It's really me. I'm dying 'cause I'm poor. Mama's eyes are fluttering. Like a butterfly. This is real. Please, people. Not a photo op. I'm dying 'cause I'm poor. I spit on Mama's lips, to give her moisture. Her face turns cold. I'm crying 'cause I'm poor. Oh, Mama! Dear sweet Mama. I wail into the sky. Where's that promising Bush? Mama didn't...