iPoem · 177.2402.960.753 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 177.2402.960.753 (no. 792,710) was generated on August 26, 2026 at 7:41 pm
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