iPoem · 8059.1391.751.809 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 8059.1391.751.809 (no. 807,570) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 10:43 pm
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