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?"