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?"