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?"