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b'We review two poems by Alana Folsom:\\xa0\\u201cAnatomy of a Dream\\u201d\\xa0and\\xa0\\u201cMirroring\\u201d\\xa0and one poem by Sarah Stickney:\\xa0\\u201cGuest.\\u201d\\xa0\\xa0Alana Folsom\\xa0would genuinely like to thank The OC for giving her pre-teen self her first taste of poetry a la Death Cab for Cutie (which she will insist is poetry with anyone who wants to argue)\\u2026\\nThis week from the slush pile, we review two poems by Alana Folsom:\\xa0\\u201cAnatomy of a Dream\\u201d\\xa0and\\xa0\\u201cMirroring\\u201d\\xa0and one poem by Sarah Stickney:\\xa0\\u201cGuest.\\u201d\\n\\nAlana Folsom\\n\\nAlana Folsom\\xa0would genuinely like to thank The OC for giving her pre-teen self her first taste of poetry a la Death Cab for Cutie (which she will insist is poetry with anyone who wants to argue). If it wasn\\u2019t for Seth Cohen, she might be trying to hack it as an accountant. She is currently living in either Boston or rural Oregon, depending on when this podcast is published, and plans to name her next cat \\u201cBirthday.\\u201d\\nWe start off this this week\\u2019s episode with reviewing Alana Folsom\\u2019s poem, \\u201cAnatomy of a Dream,\\u201d leading into a discussion of very uncommon imagery coupled with a dream-like structure and surreal ideas. To simply sum it up in Tim\\u2019s words: \\u201cThere\\u2019s a lot of nipples in this poem!\\u201d But that\\u2019s partly what causes it to be unexpected and super fun to read.\\nFolsom\\u2019s \\u201cMirroring\\u201d follows with a lovely premise of ancestry embodied, as it follows the sexual exploration of a girl while treasuring the connection she has to her father. Also really fun for us to discuss, this poem is both brilliant and truly organic.\\xa0Many thanks to\\xa0Issa Rae, creator and co-star of\\xa0Insecure, for giving us the tools we needed to discuss this poem!\\n\\nSarah Stickney\\n\\nNext up is Sarah Stickney, who describes herself as a\\xa0snail; she does everything you do slower than you. She grew up in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and spends a lot of time thinking about what the sky looks like. She likes fire, foreign languages, and food-shopping, but she agrees with Pindar that water is best.\\nWe move on to review \\u201cGuest\\u201d by Sarah Stickney, yet another brilliant poem that makes us think (some of us affectionately, others not too much) about the sentimentality of friendship. While channeling the very human experience of love and passion between friends, \\u201cGuest\\u201d gorgeously gives us much to feel, leaving us to reflect on our own experiences with love so strong that it might even be embarrassing to feel.\\nWhat do you think about this episode? Share your thoughts on nipples, romance, and insecurity with us on Facebook and Twitter using #smashing!\\nHappy reading!\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nPresent at the Editorial Table:\\nKathleen Volk Miller\\nTim Fitts\\nMarion Wrenn\\nSharee DeVose\\nJason Schneiderman\\n\\xa0\\nEngineering Producer:\\nAmber Ferreira\\n-----------------------------\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nAlana Folsom\\nAnatomy of a Dream\\nAfter I send you the picture of my naked body\\nI dream my nipples are bird beaks\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0They remain shut \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0small\\xa0pointed things\\nthen they grow \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0like lying noses\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 grow like hardening dicks \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0In flight\\nhummingbirds look like matches\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0at the base of their long bill \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0a throaty blaze\\nIn flight \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0\\xa0hummingbirds sound like matches\\xa0perpetually lighting\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 Perhaps my nipples are matches\\nPink & flaming & waiting to spark\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 perhaps my nipples are hungry \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0\\xa0winging matches\\n\\xa0\\nAlana Folsom\\nMirroring\\nI study myself and find him in the ridge of my nose\\nin the rungs of my ribcage. Boys who will never meet him\\ncup and bless my body tug my damp underwear\\npast the knots\\nof my knees; they don\\u2019t see\\nhim, they don\\u2019t see anything else besides me.\\nAnd I am sorry for all this sex\\nso close to my father.\\nBut he is within me\\neven as he withers away.\\nSame flat feet, same bone shapes.\\nAs any good daughter would,\\nI hug my father\\ngoodbye at his red front door, try to mean I love you and not\\nDon\\u2019t die before I learn what love is for.\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nSarah Stickney\\nGuest\\nStaying with friends I felt embarrassed by my love\\nfor them, as if it were a wound t'