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?"