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?"