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?"