1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 144.3923.314.308 (no. 797,543) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 2:35 pm
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