iPoem · 5682.6723.654.354 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 5682.6723.654.354 (no. 802,317) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 12:39 pm
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