iPoem · 6090.6343.434.628 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 6090.6343.434.628 (no. 795,258) was generated on October 8, 2026 at 5:48 pm
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