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?"