iPoem · 32.6784.18.113 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 32.6784.18.113 (no. 808,465) was generated on November 12, 2026 at 7:48 am
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