iPoem · 8558.6797.554.123 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 8558.6797.554.123 (no. 794,661) was generated on September 29, 2026 at 5:23 pm
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