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?"