iPoem · 5318.5293.913.712 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 5318.5293.913.712 (no. 803,457) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 4:32 pm
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