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?"