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?"