What Jack Kerouac later called that ”mad night” of Oct. 7, 1955, in an erstwhile San Francisco auto-body shop converted to a Boho art gallery. That was the mad night Ginsberg took his turn on the orange-crate podium and declaimed his work in progress to the assembled ”angelheaded hipster” faithful, leaving the throng in an uproar and Beatnik paterfamilias Kenneth Rexroth in tears.
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