iPoem · 121.5906.294.310 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 121.5906.294.310 (no. 801,779) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 12:58 am
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