Many years ago, when I was in college, one of my professors-who also became a mentor-introduced my to “espresso” which she made herself after dinner with another guest. There was this little cup with no real room for cream or sweetener and a sliver of lemon which was to help with the bitter taste, I suppose. I just played follow the leader, as I was clueless.

Well, the one thing about espresso and being a college student is that it does help if you need to be up late studying, which I often did. For years, I called it “expresso” without awareness that you called it something else. As it holds true, I just think it was a mistake in spelling as when you have this strong dose of caffeine, you definitely are apt to express yourself.

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That’s my Six Sentence Story and lookie there, I didn’t write a poem! I bet you are as surprised as I am. But…hey…let me see if I can try my hand at it.

Six Sentence Story Poem – installment #2

(Same Title)

When I was older than younger strudents, I had to stay up to study late

If I wanted to keep really going, an espresso would be the way

Although the name should be expresso, I suppose that’s how it goes

All I know is that reading chapters meant I needed some go-go-go

I’d go for years and call it my name, as if anyone would care but the bourgeoisie

Today, I call it by the proper name unless I too tired and call it a day

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