iPoem · 8748.5969.946.119 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 8748.5969.946.119 (no. 799,310) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 8:20 am
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