iPoem · 8015.353.409.201 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 8015.353.409.201 (no. 792,731) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 5:51 am
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