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?"