iPoem · 532.3319.193.756 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 532.3319.193.756 (no. 797,427) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 8:45 am
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