iPoem · 5176.2361.35.115 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 5176.2361.35.115 (no. 806,252) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 8:43 am
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