Len Webster's 'Nam Tuam' Poem by Len Webster

I lie outside with Lorca,
A voice unknown to my kind.
But 'kind' means many things:
KIND or KINDER, kin, 'kind'...
Why couple it with kin and KITH?
A fragile brotherhood
Linked by words that can hurt
Like lethal arrows splitting the target centre.
Fragile and simple, words spray
From the mouth of the maligned serpent
To bathe dust in temporary glory.
A dry season, KINDER-less Eliot wrote,
But here water falls daily,
Pushing rivers to excess.
No kindness here, where the man
Saving his bicycle from the burst bank
Is dragged beneath the gush.
A comic hero's death is less than kind.