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?"