iPoem · 512.3757.680.818 · 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

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 512.3757.680.818 (no. 799,484) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 7:37 pm
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