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?"