At the start of her current show at the Crown & Anchor, Dina Martina sashays onstage with wig and lipstick askew, looking not unlike Elizabeth Taylor after a bender. She sings in a self-described “voice for Braille” and serves up endless word salads (with “disen-French fries” on the menu) in a show that John Waters says “goes way beyond drag into some new kind of twisted art.” Now performing in her 21st season in Provincetown, Dina — who modestly describes herself as “a simple girl with tender gums” — responded to a few timid inquiries from the Independent.

Q: What’s your sign?
I am a proud Aquarium.
Q: Tell us a little about your process for creating a show and writing new material.
I write a bunch of song titles and story ideas on tiny confetti-size pieces of paper and stuff them into a hollowed-out potato and load it into a T-shirt cannon and shoot it into the night sky. At dawn, I venture outside — still in my nightgown — and forage for as many confetti fragments as I can find, and then I arrange them in a semi-pleasing fashion on a bed of phyllo dough and bake it at 375 degrees for a fortnight or until it bursts into flames, whichever comes first. Then I … wait … what was the question?
Q: Let’s move on. Congratulations on your 21st summer in Provincetown! How has the drag scene changed over that time?
Now, of course, being a woman, I can only observe it as an outsider. I have admired tens of drag queens over the years, and I think it’s been really noteworthy to see them go from being almost an endangered species back in the late ’90s to seeing them today, flourishing and proliferating in their natural habitat. You really can’t poop without hitting a drag queen in these End Times.
Q: What is something your audiences would never guess about you?
Probably that I have a 26-inch waist — because you know that saying that the camera adds 10 pounds? Well, the stage oftentimes adds 80 to 90 pounds.
Q: Where can we find you on your days off?
Arby’s. And then after that, Urgent Care.
“Dina Martina: Now Living” runs through Sept. 18 at the Crown & Anchor (247 Commercial St., Provincetown).