iPoem · 5848.1269.588.438 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 5848.1269.588.438 (no. 804,708) was generated on November 3, 2026 at 2:05 am
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