iPoem · 512.759.302.963 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 512.759.302.963 (no. 803,566) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 11:15 pm
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