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?"