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?"