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?"