iPoem · 5692.6992.266.506 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5692.6992.266.506 (no. 808,128) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 10:01 am
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