1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 5274.6357.453.845 (no. 802,919) was generated on October 29, 2026 at 5:38 am
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.216.111
iPoem number reference:
5274.6357.453.845
  (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