satellite

I’ve been climbing the hill
In the jungle
For nearly a quarter of a century now.

The footsteps I made the first five years were
My guide now
Boot grooves that were supposed to lead the way
Now seemed backward
Was that right?

I was an animal tracking itself
Ready to hunt the idiot who scaled
This incline yesterday

We never seemed to pass each other
But I kept my gun loaded
Just
In
Case
I needed to put myself down

There were mini avalanches
Most of the time
But I told myself
That was part of climbing the hill

The dead body I passed
Years ago
Never seemed to decay

I had taken their boots a long time ago
Because they seemed
Like a perfect fit
At the time
But as I kept climbing, my feet swelled
And I kept trying to find a different
dead body
To loot

At the top of my climb is an overgrown satellite
Dish
And a microphone
That still has dust on it
Even though I use it
Every day

I keep trying to make contact
But I never get any response
Other than a random echo
That I mistake as intention
But it’s really just
A monkey who
Stole my phone
And pressed some random buttons