iPoem · 477.6929.704.881 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 477.6929.704.881 (no. 798,782) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 10:50 pm
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