I remember exactly one concept from that high school AP Economics course, which I took because all the other kids in my track were taking it.
I lacked natural facility with the subject, it didn’t already interest me, and I had yet to learn that working hard to master something difficult can be both useful and a pleasure. (I’m still learning that one, in fact.) I passed the class (I even passed the AP test, barely), but I took the marks and left any real learning behind.
Except this one concept, opportunity cost, which has followed me everywhere, and crops up in all kinds of non-economic contexts.
Like this one, published in poem form in Issue 4 of Cascadia Rising Review.
Read some other fine poetry while you’re there. (CRR has a particularly clean and friendly design that’s a pleasure to read.)
I’m so honored to be a contributor at this lovely journal.
There’s another one of mine in there: After This Vernal Equinox, Remember.
I’ve got a short essay in this issue as well: Late Summer Ghosts.

“It hails like I’m a taxi” is such a great line.
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Thanks! I was feeling this intense urgency when I wrote the poem, and it was definitely coming from the season, and it felt so directed AT me, but also it felt disinterested in me, as if I was a passing utility of some kind. Like a taxi.
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