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?"