iPoem · 8082.824.363.252 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 8082.824.363.252 (no. 792,741) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 3:03 pm
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