iPoem · 8494.6153.779.53 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 8494.6153.779.53 (no. 799,217) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 2:39 am
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