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?"