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?"