iPoem · 5135.7396.244.785 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 5135.7396.244.785 (no. 807,750) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 10:45 am
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