iPoem · 5617.1627.952.187 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 5617.1627.952.187 (no. 798,833) was generated on October 18, 2026 at 1:44 am
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