iPoem · 6343.6387.931.462 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 6343.6387.931.462 (no. 799,221) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 2:47 am
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