iPoem · 5518.210.653.367 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 5518.210.653.367 (no. 797,461) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 10:12 am
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