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?"