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.
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.