iPoem · 187.424.998.335 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 187.424.998.335 (no. 792,020) was generated on August 9, 2026 at 10:07 am
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