iPoem · 5317.6751.139.567 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 5317.6751.139.567 (no. 805,491) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 7:52 pm
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