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?"