iPoem · 6474.197.449.591 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 6474.197.449.591 (no. 799,364) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 11:37 am
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