Me vs. the Minutes

Doing minutes stinks
I’m supposed to be typing up minutes. But I’m not. As you can see.

Big round table. Men in suits… Ties everywhere. Nice cup of tea, getting cold.

Mumble mumble. Scratch on pad. Quote:

“MUMBLE. MUMBLE.”

Now I’m at my desk and now I have to type up MINUTES.

Minutes are the Brussel sprouts of the secretarial world.

Elizabeth Howard

Elizabeth writes literary non-fiction, haiku, cultural rants, and Demand Poetry in order to forward the cause of beautiful writing. She calls London, Kansas City, and Iowa home. 

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