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?"