iPoem · 8952.6006.350.498 · Cent mille milliards

1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 8952.6006.350.498 (no. 807,289) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 2:47 am
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