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?"