Orange-Clad Train-Climber Crew, Moving  
 Along  The  Rusty  Cargo Cars Like  Some 
 Species  Of  Ferrophage  Insect. Up  And 
 Down  The Train, Checking  Bolts, Oiling 
     Joints, Drinking Coffee, Smoking     
                Cigarettes.               
                                          
            
                                          
 We  Were Going South Through  Finland At 
 The   Time,   Sleeping   Close   To  The 
  Furnace, Watching The Aurora borealis.  
  Twenty-Something Members Of The Crew,   
 Most   Of  Which   Were  Mechanics,   Or 
 Loaders,  With  Large  And  Hairy  Hands 
 That  Could Swallow My Entire  Body. And 
 Me  Featuring As  The Cute  And  Asocial 
 Radio Operator,  Stationed In  The  Back 
    Of The Kilometer-Long Train, Which    
         Served Me Good And Well.         
                                          
 And  Then One Night, There'S A  Missile. 
 We Would Routinely Pick Up New  Cars  At 
 The Tail,  And Drop Some  Off, As  A Way 
 Of  Earning  Some  Extra  Money.  But  A 
 Missile,  And  Appearing Silently In The 
 Middle  Of  The  Night   At   That?  Not 
         Entirely... Comfortable.         
                                          
 I Call It  In  On The Walkie-Talkie. Not 
 Many  Others  Awake, They  Know  Nothing 
 About It, And  Appear Concerned As Well. 
                                          
            
                                          
 When  I Fall  Awake  In  The  Afternoon, 
 Karl  Is  There,  Smiling  At  Me.  "Hey 
 Boy," He Says,  "Wanna  Help Me  Make  A 
                  Call?"                  
                                          
 After  He'S Brought  Me Coffee,  I  Dial 
 The Frequency  From  His  Notebook,  And 
 After   A  While  There'S  A   Reply  In 
 Pan-Slavic.  Karl  Laughs  And  Makes  A 
 Reply In The  Same Language. Even Though 
 We Both Have  Headphones I  Can'T Follow 
 At All,  But I Hear The Word "Missile" A 
                Few Times.                
                                          
 I'M  Almost  Snoozing  Again At The Time 
 Karl  Puts Down The Headphones And Slaps 
 Me On  My Back.  "Allright Boy.  I  Just 
 Sold  A  Missile." He  Practically Beams 
 At Me, Teeth Filed  Sharp. "Wanna Make A 
                 Detour?"