1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 8549.6851.254.187 (no. 802,399) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 6:21 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.216.145
iPoem number reference:
8549.6851.254.187
  (dataBase)
Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.
Okay – I got it – Close