iPoem · 8934.5678.233.812 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 8934.5678.233.812 (no. 792,140) was generated on August 12, 2026 at 2:52 pm
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