iPoem · 520.7400.682.213 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 520.7400.682.213 (no. 807,884) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 6:44 pm
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