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?"