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?"