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?"