iPoem · 4440.495.272.898 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 4440.495.272.898 (no. 791,796) was generated on August 6, 2026 at 11:25 am
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