Welcome to the new
Corpse! We apologize for being late and for the state of the world,
which delivers us personal and collective blows without regard
for our deadlines. Our webmistress has lost a dear friend and
grieved hard. A great friend of the editor, has also passed on
July 22nd: Ron Sukenick, a great writer. Not long ago we had an
e-mail from Robert Creeley: "it was either change it or die,
which all too many were and are doing, sadly. That part
of being old I never thought of. Love (AND STAY WELL!), Bob"
Well, Robert has left us as well. Yet, and for all that, because
of it, and despite of, this issue is full of marvels, little and
medium-sized engines of delight that, like the world these days,
are powered by sadness, despair, and here and there, a sexy open
eye. A 23-city, four countries tour by the editor has had the
effect of confirming the above, but also the undying power of
stories that go on with or without us, so that if and when one
drops in, the stories make room. Feeling like a dequilled porcupine
with all one's synchronicity shields down is downright tender,
but not all bad. Love, love is all you need. On this cryptic cliché
we leave you to, hopefully, spin along with us. Plus, things are
still funny and you are still charming.