iPoem · 463.2756.392.199 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 463.2756.392.199 (no. 806,394) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 3:50 pm
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