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

that evening.

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

Dodger tickets.

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.