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?"