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?"