1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

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

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 8841.5371.598.307 (no. 805,189) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 8:59 am
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