iPoem · 5086.5884.350.699 · 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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5086.5884.350.699 (no. 795,406) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 3:29 am
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