1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
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 5212.6926.116.815 (no. 802,132) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 11:37 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.216.220
iPoem number reference:
5212.6926.116.815
  (dataBase)
Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.
Okay – I got it – Close