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?"