iPoem · 148.6450.481.765 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 148.6450.481.765 (no. 789,737) was generated on June 21, 2026 at 1:08 pm
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