1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 5919.6369.618.646 (no. 797,123) was generated on October 13, 2026 at 2:51 pm
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