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?"