iPoem · 8600.2361.477.851 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 8600.2361.477.851 (no. 807,650) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 4:07 am
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