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?"