iPoem · 4033.6127.612.837 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

Based on Raymond Queneau’s A Hundred Thousand Billion Poems, The 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem is a non-commercial artistic project inspired by Queneau’s work and the tradition of literary variation it inaugurated.
→ iPoem 4033.6127.612.837 (no. 806,464) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 7:32 pm
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