1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 6227.6999.396.51 (no. 802,875) was generated on October 29, 2026 at 2:44 am
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