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?"