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?"