iPoem · 8647.886.598.811 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 8647.886.598.811 (no. 804,399) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 6:41 am
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