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?"