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?"