iPoem · 338.6141.953.317 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 338.6141.953.317 (no. 803,976) was generated on November 1, 2026 at 3:02 am
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