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?"