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b'Courtesy of www.FridaKahlo.org\\nFrida Khalo\\u2019s 1946 oil painting The Wounded Deer\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nDear Slushies, on this episode we focus on the heart of literary editing and pose the age-old question: \\u201cWhat do you like when you like what you like?\\u201d We also break our own rules on this episode of The Slush Pile. Instead of flipping our thumbs at the end of each poem we\\u2019re scheduled to consider, we decide to discuss a group of poems by Shari Caplan as a suite. She submitted three poems about the female gaze, and we\\u2019re mesmerized by them. With Kathleen, Samantha, and Marion at the table, it\\u2019s an all-female crew discussing three of Kaplan\\u2019s poems, each one focusing on a powerful woman who worked in and with images: artist Frida Kahlo, psychoanalytic film theorist Laura Mulvey, and Lee Miller (check her out in \\u201cLee Miller: In Hitler\\u2019s Bathtub.\\u201d) Listen in as we consider Kaplan\\u2019s ekphrastic project as she creates these experimental monologues. We\\u2019re flying by the seat of our collective pants, trying to muster what we know about Kahlo, Miller, and Mulvey, half recalling Maya Deren\\u2019s surrealist short film Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) and trying to accurately summarize Mulvey\\u2019s supremely influential essay \\u201cVisual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,\\u201d all the while recalling Dali\\u2019s three flying cats, and being serenaded by Sam\\u2019s cat Bowie while being observed by Marion\\u2019s cat Imia, who joined us at the editorial table. \\u201cDear Pandemic Diary, Day 79, our animals want in on the editorial process. We want to call them \\u2018Podcats.\\u2019 Someone should intervene.\\u201d\\n\\xa0\\nWith thanks to one of our sponsors, \\xa0Wilbur Records, who kindly introduced us to the artist is A.M.Mills whose song \\u201cSpaghetti with Lorraine\\u201d now opens our show.\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nPOETRY DISCUSSION BEGINS at 4:00\\n\\xa0\\xa0\\nAuthor Bio\\nShari Caplan is the siren behind "Advice from a Siren" (Dancing Girl Press). Her poems have swum into Gulf Coast, Nonbinary Review, Masque & Spectacle, Tinderbox, Deluge, and more. Caplan\'s work has earned her a scholarship to the Home School in Hudson, NY, a fellowship to the Vermont Studio Center, and nominations for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. You may encounter her as "Betty BOOM: America\'s Sweettart" giving intimate readings as part of the Poetry Society of New York\'s Poetry Brothel or ring-leading the Poetry Circus, an in-character immersive event she produces.\\n\\xa0\\n\\nwebsite: sharicaplan.com\\nFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/shari.caplan.5\\nInstagram: @sharic88\\n\\xa0\\nPlus, Marion\\u2019s cat insists on a seat at the table.\\xa0\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nThe Works\\n"Frida Kahlo (on Frida Kahlo) on the Female Gaze"\\n\\xa0\\nComparison fragments the green-gold of my body. Nothing compares.\\n\\xa0\\nAs a woman, I see a deer in an arrow forest with my face on and hear palpitating hooves across dry needles. As a deer, I see a woman poking her paint into my wound. What do you see, Diego?\\n\\xa0\\nYou were called Auxochrome the one who captures (color). I Chromophore \\u2014 the one who gives. Friendly reds, big blues, hands of leaves, noisy birds, fingers in. Flowers cackle at my ear. Can the female gaze grow fruit in a pick-axe climate?\\n\\xa0\\nAs a woman, my fingers touch blood. You may have seen it undisguised in the bathroom. As a deer, my blood touches fingers and arrowheads. You might have mistaken it for paint. You may use it.\\n\\xa0\\nAs a deer, I retain my eyebrows to express the paths of my nerves, which are yours. As a painting, I multiply into flowers and a mountain because my eyes blanket rivers and roots.\\n\\xa0\\nI don\\u2019t see a mountaintop. The mountain held in the veins of the sky.\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\n"Lee Miller on The Female (Gaze)"\\n\\xa0\\nDon\\u2019t! melt until I\\u2019ve lit you.\\n\\xa0\\nCovered to the neck. A sheet to morph you, size the shine on your\\n\\xa0- don\\u2019t!\\n\\xa0\\nface.\\n\\xa0\\nNow, topless\\n\\xa0\\nin the metal chair, like an uncorked bottle. Cross\\nat the elbows, look down at the ants.\\n\\xa0\\nDon\\u2019t \\u2013\\n\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0cavort until I\\u2019ve snapped. We\\u2019ll have some when he\\u2019s over. Come under. An object\\n\\xa0\\ncould fall on top of you at any moment. It might be\\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0 \\xa0\\xa0\\xa0 a person.\\n\\xa0\\nTar stretches like a b'