iPoem · 8457.8183.749.508 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 8457.8183.749.508 (no. 800,855) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 12:06 pm
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