IMPERIAL RUSSIAN STOUT by MISS MACROSS
It’s not until I get drunk on one beer that I realize all I ate today was a bag of Combos — the Pizzeria Pretzel kind, of course, because I have classy taste. I pop a plastic bowl of wonton soup in the microwave and when it’s done, my excited ass rips off the film too fast. Hot soup makes beautiful scarring patterns on my left hand. I want to paint their puffy spirals on canvas.
I’m still drunk, and now mad at myself because I promised to maintain a higher calorie count than this. I pour myself a glass of water. I use it to clean acrylic paint off my brushes. I don’t need my health or a good morning tomorrow. I need art that I will eventually throw away because I don’t have the space in my one-bedroom apartment for personal baggage.
I pull out a piece of Walmart canvas board and disregard underdrawings. I pour out lots of yellow and blue paint. I will paint a Last Supper. I will paint a night sky. I will fall asleep midway through and all my paints will dry.
Miss Macross is a Pittsburgh-based poet, tutor, witch, and painter. She is influenced by spacecraft, witchcraft, and personal trauma. Her work has been published by Philosophical Idiot, The Mantle, Rag Queen Periodical, Train, and Flash Fiction Magazine. She retweets anime shitposts @missmacross.