iPoem · 8213.5397.531.806 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 8213.5397.531.806 (no. 792,754) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 9:40 pm
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