iPoem · 5191.2203.449.535 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 5191.2203.449.535 (no. 807,885) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 6:45 pm
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