iPoem · 8427.5802.902.969 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 8427.5802.902.969 (no. 798,615) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 11:50 am
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