iPoem · 5328.7863.566.221 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5328.7863.566.221 (no. 806,568) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 2:32 am
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