iPoem · 8037.6804.863.458 · 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

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 8037.6804.863.458 (no. 804,221) was generated on November 1, 2026 at 7:36 pm
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