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?"