iPoem · 5454.5690.118.153 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5454.5690.118.153 (no. 802,435) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 8:49 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.

Okay – I got it – Close