iPoem · 5520.120.550.502 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 5520.120.550.502 (no. 802,498) was generated on October 28, 2026 at 1:47 am
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