iPoem · 6137.6473.651.848 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 6137.6473.651.848 (no. 792,803) was generated on August 28, 2026 at 9:38 pm
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