iPoem · 8557.3803.566.452 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 8557.3803.566.452 (no. 804,552) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 4:49 pm
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