iPoem · 8157.787.72.831 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 8157.787.72.831 (no. 805,584) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 7:52 pm
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