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?"