iPoem · 137.5622.293.984 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 137.5622.293.984 (no. 790,566) was generated on July 10, 2026 at 5:19 pm
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