iPoem · 8180.5368.302.702 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
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 8180.5368.302.702 (no. 807,811) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 2:46 pm
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