iPoem · 5706.6543.950.389 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5706.6543.950.389 (no. 808,673) was generated on November 12, 2026 at 10:42 pm
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