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?"