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?"