In which I came perilously close to disappearing up my own back passage.
Overuse of underlining was a serious fault here and in many other fanzines of the time. We were all straining too hard to be heard.
On the plus side I was beginning to develop something of a design eye. There’s a nice use of space here, and of a patterned paper bag as background.
The poem is Mervyn Peake’s. I read everything of his after the Gormenghast trilogy, even Mr Pye.