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?"