iPoem · 5811.8109.599.975 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 5811.8109.599.975 (no. 808,257) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 6:47 pm
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