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?"