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?"