iPoem · 5982.8750.411.183 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5982.8750.411.183 (no. 803,249) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 3:05 am
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