iPoem · 5612.8605.690.191 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5612.8605.690.191 (no. 798,647) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 2:03 pm
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