iPoem · 8074.6567.133.830 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 8074.6567.133.830 (no. 799,283) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 6:45 am
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