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?"