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?"