iPoem · 8890.7185.603.899 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 8890.7185.603.899 (no. 805,390) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 7:52 pm
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