iPoem · 5293.3368.229.945 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
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 5293.3368.229.945 (no. 795,200) was generated on October 8, 2026 at 2:37 pm
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