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?"