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?"