Bronx’s Poetry Slam Mic Drops in Mott Haven

Mott Haven’s words rang last night with the Bronx’s poetry slam rocking a loft on 138th. Host Tariq Evans spat bars as 100 snapped, NYC’s voice unplugged. It’s borough rhyme—$5 entry, open mic, pure BX vibe. A teen choked; a vet burned the room. ‘Bronx speaks—this is us,’ Evans says, passing the mic. The loft shook with verse.

The slam’s hot—weekly, tripling since March’s start. Evans, a Soundview poet, packed it; last night’s lines hit deep—tears flowed. A newbie nailed a love piece; claps drowned the L. Tips hit $80—words paid. #BronxSlam trended; Harlem’s listening.

Some shrugged—’Too raw,’ griped a shy wallflower, ducking out. Space squeezed—latecomers stood; heat rose. A mic cut—fixed with a curse. Still, 120 stayed—poetry ruled. Mott Haven’s never rhymed so fierce.

Evans wants it nightly, maybe a street stage if spring bites. ‘NYC’s soul—this bleeds it,’ he says, stacking chairs. The slam’s a Bronx win—grit meets grit. Mott Haven’s verse heart now; spit a line. Bring guts—words bite.