iPoem · 8599.9491.332.253 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 8599.9491.332.253 (no. 809,451) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 1:19 am
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