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?"