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?"