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?"