iPoem · 5515.6059.657.309 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5515.6059.657.309 (no. 807,617) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 2:01 am
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