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?"