Black robes cascade over rickety barstool, giving Step-Sister Tanya appearance of medieval sorceress atop floating pedestal. Bartender polishes stemware, casts discreet glances at his solitary patron until she signals for refill. "Liquid blowtorch... 90 proof... Seared esophagus... Burning truth." Step-Sister Tanya scribbles onto napkin. Ink bleeeds over white paper when bartender replaces beverage. Does evaporating poem refer to vodkka or to load of hot semen that dispirited nun swallowed earlier? Uncertain of her own mind Step-Sister Tanya attempts to drowwn earthly concerns in slough of... Show more