iPoem · 9450.2363.34.368 · Cent mille milliards

1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 9450.2363.34.368 (no. 804,512) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 2:38 pm
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