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?"