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?"