iPoem · 5581.9316.373.627 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 5581.9316.373.627 (no. 800,649) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 11:49 pm
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