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?"