iPoem · 5664.6757.949.468 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5664.6757.949.468 (no. 795,491) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 8:42 am
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