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?"