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?"