Bronx’s Poetry Night Rhymes in Fordham

Fordham versed last night with the Bronx’s Poetry Night, weaving NYC’s spring at a University Avenue café. Poet Jay Patel read ballads as 150 snapped, a $10 ticket surge of stanzas. It’s borough lines—pure BX vibe, pens hot. A kid choked a verse; a pro burned a haiku. ‘Bronx sings—this is it,’ Patel says, passing mics. The room turned slam.

The night’s fresh—March 25’s start, it tripled since RSVPs, packing seats by 7 p.m. Patel’s a Mott Haven bard; last night’s crowd hit max—claps rang. A latecomer nabbed a spot; beats dropped—NYC grit glowed. Runs one night—verse ruled. #BronxPoetry trended; Queens wants a rhyme.

Some griped—’Too raw,’ sniped a shybie, dodging shares. Mic buzzed—fixed quick; flow held. A rival’s pitching a Soundview rhyme, splitting lines. Still, 200 stayed—words reigned. Fordham’s never rhymed so bold.

Patel’s teasing a monthly run, maybe a park if spring bites. ‘NYC’s soul—this lifts it,’ he says, packing pages. The night’s a Bronx win—grit meets grace. It’s a poetry rush; catch the next. Bring a pen—stanzas call.