iPoem · 8037.291.961.428 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
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 8037.291.961.428 (no. 793,906) was generated on September 16, 2026 at 7:24 pm
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