iPoem · 5999.61.657.851 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5999.61.657.851 (no. 804,442) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 9:44 am
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