iPoem · 8444.2468.797.191 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 8444.2468.797.191 (no. 794,631) was generated on September 29, 2026 at 12:45 am
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