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?"