I'm standing on a stage in NYU's Loeb Auditorium, sharing a spotlight with the greatest living American poet, Allen Ginsberg. A band led by legendary jazzman David Amram, who played in the earliest Beat poetry jams, provides music. Ginsberg beats time with two rhythm sticks. I'm holding a copy of his book, Cosmopolitan Greetings, before him as he performs the "Put Down Yr Cigarette Rag." This bald, diminutive, dapper man exhorts the appreciative crowd to "smoke clit smoke tit smoke cock," smoke anything except tobacco. As I turn the pages for Ginsberg, I can feel the ghosts of countless evenings when these men on stage joined Neal Cassady and a host of other legends to bring the spontaneous exuberance of the Beat Generation to a staid and s
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