JP Grasser’s poems are rooted in the “mammoth sense” of direct experience. They are immersed in […]
JP Grasser
The stillborn calf drops to the ground, all wet & good, smelling of life freshly—; out […]
Pathetic Fallacy by JP Grasser
You were holding a roll of surgical tubing, had it coiled around your elbow & shoulder […]
The Scales by JP Grasser
The weather was good for a burial, chilly enough to make god seem present, wholly […]