Poem By MARINA GIPPS
On my father's boat, there is a unique little machine
called a 'Pathfinder' and on the ocean
all my dark thoughts are laid out on an ever-changing map.
An abstract tide
carries me, pledging forever everywhere we go.
But I know the ocean better than my old man-
the violence of going underwater
with love and nausea.
Still, this machine plays savior for us all-
says which way we're going, retrieving all cries for help
as we sink to a place so infinite.