To Go Cup
They drank with abandon.
Began with beer most afternoons.
Texas creatures of culture.
Chugged about the living room
in her black Beatles’ hat, she
broke out the Scotch around 4:30 pm.
This time, it was one for the road.
He grabbed his Oiler’s cap
filled his white to go cup to the brim.
Grabbed his keys
they both took off
1980 Cadillac El Dorado.
Stopped in Bacliff
for fresh oysters.
Her hat blew off
blocked his blurry vision.
Cadillac careened close
to Galveston Bay.
Both got out, thirsty swigs off
watered down Scotch.
Peeled out, scrunching tires,
cranked down the air conditioner.
Pulled into Maribelle’s
for Longnecks followed
by a lingerie show
A Man and his Beer
He was a carpenter from Texas.
Strong and bronze
He loved his beer.
Worked on boats in Marina del Rey.
Dingy apartment. Venice Beach.
Home was his refuge and safe haven.
He loved to smoke, talk and drink
Several cans of beer.
Each evening had to be
Chilled and accessible.
Sometimes Dad swung by
Choice seats near home plate.
He ate grilled hot dogs, peanuts and beer.
When not working on boats,
He was at the golf course.
Brought beer for refreshment while
Swinging his clubs along the fairways.
Launched his own furniture business.
He created custom coffee tables.
Had a beer waiting after hours,
Sanding and varnishing his latest piece.
We moved to Houston. Humid and sticky.
He got a boat. Took his beer alongside his fishing gear.
The heat, the water, alone with his thoughts.
Sipping his favorite beverage by the sea.
Marsha Johansen lives in Albuquerque, NM and holds a Bachelors in Business Management. Her collection of poems called “Around the Edges” was published in 2018. Both her prose and poems appear in The New York Times Magazine, DailyDrunkMag, PoetryLovers.com, SadGirlsClub and the New Mexico Poetry Society Chapbook.