Judging by the contents of the magazine's first Web-only issue, there's every reason to suspect that things will continue apace. "CyberCorpse No. 1" contains poetry from Gwendolyn Albert & Dave Brinks, essays by Max Cafard and Jim Nisbet, as well as art, travelogues and other miscellany, all in keeping with the Corpse's unwavering dedication to the cutting-edge. Particularly noteworthy is Alex Sydorenko's "drinking Coca-Cola on Red Army Street," which examines the peculiar irony inherent in the collision of the recent past with US-imported capitalism in post-perestroika Russia.

Codrescu, defending the decision to make the Corpse Web-only, writes, "the Cybercorpse is still the Corpse, but it is more fluid, subject to instant change and, above all, not so labor and time-intensive...And the trees are ecstatic." (Never mind that on the same page, Codrescu goes on to pitch a soon-to-be-released, 2-volume Corpse anthology from Black Sparrow.)

Ecological imperatives aside, the Corpse's move into cyberspace is worth discussion on another level. While not the first print lit journal to go Web-only, the Corpse is certainly the first big-name publication to take this leap of faith. Such a leap comes at a time when many in the world of literary fiction and poetry still feel that publishing on the Web isn't quite the same thing as being published in print but rather less prestigious, something that smacks of "vanity" or self-publishing. The Corpse's move, however, might further the erosion of this distinction. Indeed, it's tempting to suggest that here we're glimpsing the future for many similar publications: perpetually cash-strapped and relying too heavily on the benevolence of grant-issuing bodies, more and more small but prestigious journals may soon follow The Corpse's lead.

If you're considering submitting to Exquisite Corpse, be warned that one of the old Corpse's signature features, "The Body Bag", is slated to return. In this column, editor Laura Rosenthal responds to would-be contributors by excerpting their work and poking fun at bad lines, poor syntax and the like, with the intent, one might argue, of discouraging submissions or at least stemming the tide a bit. Undaunted? The Corpse wants "works of language genius, provocation, malignant brilliance, practical utopianism, profound terror, sexual delirium, and resolute enmity against commonplace, cliché, and convention." Quite a mouthful but a fair assessment of what you'll find in the pages of this always interesting, frequently brilliant 'zine.

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