iPoem · 5082.676.895.892 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 5082.676.895.892 (no. 795,474) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 7:36 am
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