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?"