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?"