iPoem · 3827.5490.575.802 · Cent mille milliards

1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 3827.5490.575.802 (no. 805,540) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 7:52 pm
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