The Gulf Between Us 

	I’m finally OK with whatever’s around me
	a body of water describing my shore 
		I see you and wave 

If I’m on my island and you’re on yours 
I can finally start to see that 
	the gulf between us

	can not be bridged

	the islands are too far

	for you to see me waving 
there’s a gap

	deep water pouring 

nonetheless

	some nights 
	for no one 
moonlight on the water 
flashing gold coins 

	between 2 islands 
	solitudes ignoring 
		the glittering emptiness

		the pregnancy of what is not 

	I go there 
I wade in 
		I drip wealth in the night 

Phil Elverum (b. 1978) grew up five miles into the woods outside the island town of Anacortes, Washington during the 80’s and 90’s in a post-hippie echo that normalized saying “hello” out loud to the nearby mountains, waters and animals. As a teenager, entering the world of music and creation through the door that punk tore open, he finally found his people in Olympia. He lived there for 5 years and released records as the Microphones with the K label. Now he makes Mount Eerie records, since 2003, and releases them himself on a fake record label, stubbornly still DIY to the bone. He has a devotion to this life of creativity and subversion that has never wavered. These songs and works dig down into the bedrock of this place and try to bring forth a fresh exhale, a big picture glimpse, small beneath the sky, clear water trickling.