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?"