iPoem · 5209.9390.928.416 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5209.9390.928.416 (no. 803,898) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 9:57 pm
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