iPoem · 8193.7590.252.352 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
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 8193.7590.252.352 (no. 794,548) was generated on September 27, 2026 at 12:18 am
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