iPoem · 782.5905.173.496 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 782.5905.173.496 (no. 801,546) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 9:43 am
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