Two days ago, I sat in a typical, hulking public school in the Bronx, in a sunny library with grates on the windows, and heard vigorous poetry.

I'd shown up feeling tired, distracted, my Blackberry overrun with unreturned emails. But suddenly I was jarred by the raw spirit coming at me: five Converse-clad middle school students who stood up, one after another, and spewed their compositions like they were unloading burdens.

Read the rest of the article here.