iPoem · 8045.6190.178.127 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 8045.6190.178.127 (no. 798,602) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 10:51 am
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