iPoem · 5137.2818.569.291 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5137.2818.569.291 (no. 806,575) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 2:45 am
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