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?"