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?"