iPoem · 8304.65.32.863 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 8304.65.32.863 (no. 806,455) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 6:58 pm
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