iPoem · 6159.3390.958.909 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 6159.3390.958.909 (no. 797,563) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 3:37 pm
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