iPoem · 46.2468.625.389 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 46.2468.625.389 (no. 802,861) was generated on October 29, 2026 at 1:49 am
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