iPoem · 8621.9361.653.419 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 8621.9361.653.419 (no. 807,768) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 11:59 am
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