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?"