iPoem · 6034.860.764.661 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 6034.860.764.661 (no. 802,105) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 9:47 pm
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