The sure Siberian sun. Here on the railway across the endless tundra.
Past the deepest lakes in the world. Through asteroid-pocked crater
scapes. Dunes made of the wind-milled grains of old massifs. Wind-milled?
Mind-willed? It's like floating downstream. The rowers of the mind are
insane. Mind on crew goes in all directions, and the coxswain is
plastered.