iPoem · 4156.6317.541.187 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 4156.6317.541.187 (no. 809,448) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 1:01 am
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