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?"