iPoem · 597.8861.257.637 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 597.8861.257.637 (no. 804,619) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 9:16 pm
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