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?"