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?"