Illustration for the poem "Legend" Jonathan William Beaton Tickling your ears, slapping your face, cracking eggs on your head – the blasted thing is always in the way: a proud palm in a blue plastic bucket on a tired old bar. Why? Not why was it put there, not why castrate the poor bugger with this bucket, but why do I quietly, deeply love it? The heart disdains interior design. The nonchalantly space-swallowing palm sitting atop the bar at OFFoff has passed from familiarity to authenticity, and with the retiring of this space, from potted plant to legend.