Now that I know,
how much I don’t know,
I don’t quite know where to begin.
I’ll do something familiar,
and fill up my teacup with gin.
I come to the ground. The ground comes to me.
aiming for the essential
Critical. Crazy. Catastrophic.
"What a strange bundle of consistent inconsistencies we all are." Mary Ronan
Poetry and Stories by Zach Jackson
This is an outlet, a platform, a bucket list. A home, if you will, for anything and everything I create in my twenties.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Creating Art, Poetry and Fiction.