iPoem · 82.2396.320.258 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 82.2396.320.258 (no. 799,878) was generated on October 20, 2026 at 9:36 pm
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