iPoem · 6058.160.714.628 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 6058.160.714.628 (no. 798,388) was generated on October 16, 2026 at 7:55 pm
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