iPoem · 8717.2990.234.346 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 8717.2990.234.346 (no. 806,906) was generated on November 8, 2026 at 12:41 am
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