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59 healing mass There goes one lady and there goes another. Ash and Latin and down they go. My fifth-grade teacher to salve her burlap skin. Pray for health, my mother says, but I am healthy. Pray for better faith. But I already believe. The taste of the ocean. The taste of an orange. The palm tree growing inside a cricket. Like a homicide cop with his baggie of bullets, like a district attorney with the videotape, he knows the truth before he asks. So the hell with healing. Please, God, give me money. paul text i-84 -3.indd 59 7/20/10 3:17 PM ...

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