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?"