19 of 30, 2015

Steak Diane Supervillain

The hazy trophy couple who orders it;

the shag discotheque of a narrow dining room;

the boneless sous-chef who chalks it in after every hangover;

the golf-course echo of the owner's call;

the stripes and their bastard bend on the wide staff tie.

Nothing that deserves the Huntress' portion.

Other things to burn besides the simmering pool

of blood and fortified wine.