Podcast: What is Jersey City?
All Things Hudson County
January 2, 2017
John T. Trigonis
It’s how we find the path
we lost our way on once before,
the path we find ourselves
traveling once more.
Again, from the start.
Every Monday, GJC will be sharing a poem from John T. Trigonis, a local JC Heights resident, poet, writer, and coffee aficionado,...
December 27, 2016
I dropped 30¢ and a letter on a sandwich he left at the bar,
took a bite because it needed taking under the
hot sun lamps –– smut on my nose. That 30¢
should be enough to buy a one way phone call to
another time. Same bar. New me?
And the letter?
That’s good for a lap da...
December 19, 2016
Whether waved in noir or Viking blond or
whiskey finished with war hammer
curls or earth toned as the ground on which
every step ahead treads heavier than
the tracks we leave behind, the hairs that
drop from our boyhood heads are pure.
Those same strands, once soldier str...
December 12, 2016
The David Bowie mural shines brightest in the
In 2016, everyone had an Election Day playlist.
What was yours?
A wise woman once said, “you’ve always been crazy,
this is just the first chance you’ve had
to express yourself.”
Those Dems. Those Dems. Sin...
December 5, 2016
Crashed my lightning blue ’89 Cavelier into the 1&9
divide after the Giants won Superbowl XLII.
So I wandered the Jersey City underworld cloud heavy
passed motorcycle hangovers and White Mana
thinking how a lonesome star like mine could get the
moon’s attention witho...
November 28, 2016
I’m having trouble breathing nights since the
morning my America died all too silently
in her sleep.
The coroner said it was an excess of
white blood cells, which are supposed to heal scars,
not multiply them.
But in my America, when you stitch one wound closed,
November 21, 2016
Hard rain pummels panes of glass while wet rings take
residence where our drinks once bled out
onto the hardwood bar while we waited for the next
2:19 out of each other’s minds. For good.
Behind the counter, a Marilyn Monroe nibbles on her
pencil, then jots down some digit...
November 14, 2016
I watch the little red-headed Filipina
collect the candles from the café tabletops
and blow them out one by one.
All except mine. Without a glance, she assumes
I need the light.
That’s how you know you’ve become
a regular––when the waitress keeps a flame
burning for you at...
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