iPoem · 5634.2595.995.153 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5634.2595.995.153 (no. 807,598) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 12:40 am
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