iPoem · 6921.6893.96.819 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 6921.6893.96.819 (no. 791,122) was generated on July 23, 2026 at 12:05 pm
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