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?"