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?"