DUEL

Years ago my morning self
Bitterly insulted my evening self
Apparently there was a duel
Of which I only heard
After my morning self
Had been gravely wounded
And carried home on a shutter.
My evening self spent some years
In Ostend, to avoid arrest.
The world spins; when now we meet
We discuss indifferent things.

QUERIES

Tapping his long fingers on the keys
John Donne asked Google
"The lost years-- where?
The Devil's foot -- who cleft by?"
His machine sang "I don't know
But I've been told
Streets of Heaven
Are lined with gold."
Dissatisfied, Donne typed
"How get with child mandrake root?
Falling star -- how catch?"
His machine blinked and said
"I'll tell you after I've
Completed my design
To keep the Mennai Bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine."
The soul of Borges, who had come
To challenge Donne to a game of chess
Or a ferocious duel, depending,
Asked "John, how long
Since you've rebooted that thing?"