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?"