Sauna Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Child of heights and rough life
Word, Sauna was strange, alien
I felt it thanks to my kind friend
Sergey a-communist-descendent
poured water on hot rocks, steam
And massage with leaf-beating

Now here and too far from him
Toronto Lake, natural summer
Sweating like a pig in this heat,
I hate it; I hate the extra humid
In context I can see the longees
In low land areas; close to seas

Can they adjust to such things?