iPoem · 123.6859.247.392 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 123.6859.247.392 (no. 791,351) was generated on July 27, 2026 at 8:14 pm
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