1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5500.5308.570.218 (no. 795,458) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 6:42 am
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