1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 5309.269.233.205 (no. 799,619) was generated on October 20, 2026 at 4:35 am
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